


Contractual Obligations

by witchlips



Series: Contractual Obligations [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, F/M, Gen, Parent Severus Snape, Parent Voldemort, Severitus, Voldemort is Severus' dad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-30
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2018-12-21 20:53:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 48,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11952435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/witchlips/pseuds/witchlips
Summary: Dark!Opportunistic!Harry. Severitus fic and Tom is Sev's Dad, too. Though no one knows that at the beginning. Kind of Crack-y, but (hopefully) written seriously.Turns out it WASN'T Lily's love that saved Harry that Halloween night after all. Voldemort really should've made sure the brat wasn't an Inner Circle Member's kid before he attempted to kill him. In the Dark Lord's defense, though, how was he supposed to know Lily Potter might've committed Line Theft?





	1. Contractual Obligations

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story I've been working on and posting on FF, but I thought maybe I'd post it here as well.  
> This story is another Gen Severitus/Grandaddy Voldemort fic, but it's been planned out more extensively than I had done with the previous stories. Updates should be every other day (6-maybe 7 chapters will be posted here on Ao3 today). It begins at the very tail end of first year, and is going to be focusing mainly within the Dark as I've not seen a lot of Darkside!Harry Severitus fics and I, uh, wanted one, lol. Harry has been sorted into Gryffindor, but his motivation was to stay under the radar and survive some place safe. The events leading up to this confrontation and the fact that my Harry is a bit more opportunistic leads him to this point. I won't spill all his secrets immediately, but know that he's a bit OoC in some areas. Obviously. Sane!Voldemort will be in attendance as well, but he is only barely sane in this chapter. There will be no pairings for the kids in this (though I may do a side story on Ao3 if I decide to pair Harry up eventually so it can be disregarded if you don't like the pairing lol), and all the adults are canonical except Sev and Tom for obvious reasons. Lastly, this chapter does have a bit of similar dialogue from PS/SS in the last two chapters, but I did have to change things to keep in with my plot, and the non-dialogue is different so...
> 
> This should be the only in depth Author's Note unless something happens to me in real life to affect posting. As always, I have no beta and appreciate when you guys point out my mistakes since I don't catch them all myself. So without further ado:

After Harry sent Hermione back through the purple flames to see to Ron and get help, he took a moment to brace himself for the confrontation to come with a deep breath. His shaking hand squeezed around the chilled glass of the smallest bottle as he brought it up to his face to glare at uncertainly. Harry took a step back from the table and spun around towards the black flames that led to certain danger.

"Here, I come," He murmured as he yanked the stopper from the top. He swallowed the meager contents in one go, and almost immediately it felt as if all the blood in his body had turned to ice. Harry shuddered as he sat the tiny bottle back on the table. He willed himself to walk into the ominous flames.

Harry tensed a bit as he took the first step inside the archway on instinct, but the black fire held no temperature and, indeed, didn't feel like anything at all.

The boy took a few more steps and came out the other side, not to see Snape, as they had suspected, but instead,  _Quirrell_  was standing there in front of the Mirror of Erised. The man didn't make a single twitch or quiver. He stood resolute, smiling a disconcerting kind of smile, his arms held firm behind his back and his chest pulled up.

" _You!_ " Harry gasped out. He felt his jaw drop a little despite himself. They had been so  _sure_  it was going to be Snape!

Quirrell's smile widened, becoming something unnervingly predator-like as he turned away from the mirror, "Me. I wondered whether I'd be meeting you here,  _Potter_."

Harry frowned at the inflection of his surname. Shaking it off, he replied, "But I thought- Snape-"

"Severus?" Quirrell laughed, his voice oddly sharp and chilled, "It's funny,  _Potter,_ that you would assume it to be  _Severus_ , considering-... well, I couldn't blame you. Severus does seem the type, doesn't he? You certainly aren't aware of your circumstances as far as can be told. No. It is rather useful the way he swoops around like an overgrown bat. Next to him, who would ever suspect p-p-poor st-stuttering P-Professor Quirrell?"

Harry's brow furrowed. What in  _Merlin's name_  was going on? Listening to this man monologue was like listening to one half of a telephone conversation. He was absolutely nutters! Still, Harry pressed forward, attempting to stall and get some more information at the same time. Perhaps if he could keep Quirrell talking until help arrived he'd make it out of this chamber alive.

"But Snape tried to kill me!"

"No, no, no.  _I_ tried to kill you. Your friend, Miss Granger, accidentally knocked me over as she rushed to set fire to Snape at that Quidditch match. She broke my eye contact with you. Another few seconds and I'd have got you off that broom. I'd have managed it before then if Snape hadn't been muttering a countercurse, trying to save you. Though… I suppose I must thank both of them for that with what we've found out, hm. Might've ended up the same as that Halloween night. Then where would we be?" Quirrell's smile turned into a smirk as he gave the boy a once-over.

Harry shook his head in disbelief, "What are you talking about? Snape tried to… save me?"

"Of course," Quirrell drawled irritatedly, "Why do you think he wanted to referee your next match? He was trying to make sure I didn't do it again. Funny really… He needn't have bothered. It was that very instance that gave us the revelation, you see?"

"What… what revelation?  _Us_?" Harry breathed out, green eyes wide. He suddenly was filled with a cold throughout his veins that had nothing to do with the potion he had just taken. Something was horribly wrong. He could just feel it.

" _Let me… Let me speak to the boy…"_ Came a horrible muffled and breathy voice from somewhere near Quirrell though his lips hadn't moved at all.

"Master, your strength is-" Quirrell tried to interject.

" _I have… strength enough for this…"_  the whispery voice interrupted. Even so sickly sounding, that strange, horrifying voice held command with absolute certainty of obedience. Quirrell didn't disappoint, and quickly turned his back to Harry. Slowly, the man unwrapped the stinking purple turban from his head.

The fabric fell to the floor and Harry stood rooted to the spot. His eyes widened in horror as the back of Quirrell's head was slowly revealed. Entirely too soon the last of it was dropped, and Harry let out an involuntary gasp.

There, on the back of the man's skull, was an entirely different face. It was incredibly pale, so much so Harry could tell it wasn't due to the lack of sun under the turban, but rather like the skin had been grafted there with the face itself. Instead of a nose, it had two vertical slits where one  _should_ be, giving an awfully similar resemblance to a snake. Gradually, Harry's verdant eyes slid up to make eye contact with the… thing. Sharp red eyes gazed back, looking Harry over as much as Harry had been looking over it.

"Harry  _Potter…"_  It whispered, a lazy smirk tipping onto its non-existent lips, "I wondered... if you would follow us... down here. Ever the Gryffindor... Severus must be so disappointed."

"Who… what  _are_  you?!" Harry's voice rose in pitch slightly, ignoring the comment about his Potions Professor. This was  _not_ normal. Even for the Wizarding World, he just  _knew_  it.

Those keen red eyes narrowed into a tired glare, "I am Lord Voldemort… boy… and now that I know…  _exactly_ why you survived that Halloween night… and I was torn from my body… I have no need to bother with killing you… Unless, you stand against me...?"

None of this was making any sense, whatsoever. Harry's breath came a bit quicker. He really did seem to have the worst possible luck. With a wary look and sweaty palms convulsing nervously over the handle of his holly wand, Harry attempted to keep the madman talking.  _Surely_  someone would come for him soon, "What are you talking about?"

Voldemort inclined Quirrell's head a fraction and smirked again, "Why, the secret to your survival… of course… Dumbledore has likely told you that it was… the love of your mother that saved you… He's always been a sentimental old fool…"

"We… we've not discussed it, actually," Harry frowned with mild bewilderment, "There's not been reason too, really."

Quirrell's shoulders shrugged, and Harry couldn't help but think how weird it was to watch a body turned away from you move for a face on the back of it's head. He shuddered, and Voldemort continued, "Ah, well… I'm sure that's what he  _will_  tell you… should you ask… It seems however, that the matter was... " Voldemort grimaced as if the words physically pained him, " _Partially_  my own error… It remains to be seen if… your father knew anything about it, of course, or… if your mother had committed line theft without his knowledge…"

"Wha-  _line_  theft?" Harry glared. He didn't really know what that meant, but he didn't appreciate anyone accusing his mother of a crime. Especially the man that  _killed_  her, "How dare- What are you even trying to say, you-you snake face?!"

Voldemort smirked in response to Harry's fiery exclamation and rather poor insult, "Yes… Line theft… You see, it appears your father is not… who I had assumed… When my followers enter into my service, young Harry… they sign a magical contract that puts them entirely under my… care… However, my Inner Circle… well, they receive a few provisos to that contract… One of those provisos, is the agreement that their heirs… will not be harmed or killed by me unless… actively going against my will…"

A fresh wave of dawning horror swept over Harry as he assimilated that information, and Voldemort rasped his cold, high laugh as the boy's face began to show comprehension of where this story was headed.

"No… that's not-"

"I'm afraid so… you are indeed the son of one of my Inner Circle… not James Potter… and when I went to kill you that night, I went against contract... and my curse rebounded on to myself in retaliation… as you were much too young to actively go against me…"

"But everyone says I look  _just like_  Dad!" Harry argued vehemently. His voice rose in pitch a little hysterically, but he refused to acknowledge it, "They say I look 'just like James', except my eyes!"

Quirrell's head nodded, and Voldemort gave Harry a mocking smile, "Yes… curious that… that you look  _just like_  Potter… Now that I know the truth, I can see that you… look only superficially like the man… I know that the contract is the only way I would have been… cast from my body… and with out those horrendous glasses... James Potter was no follower of mine, and Lily Potter… Well… she would never have been either… There was one, however, from my Inner Circle… one who begged for your mother's life."

Harry's breath became trapped in his throat, and his sweaty hands trembled as the face of the Dark Lord gave this bit of information to him with a malicious grin. Why would one of Voldemort's followers ask him to spare Harry's mother? It didn't make any sense. He couldn't be the son of one of Voldemort's followers. He just couldn't.

"Mmh… Yes, I can see you're having trouble… believing me… He asked me to spare her, young Harry… because he was in  _love_  with her," Voldemort sneered at the word, looking quite peeved at having to say such a thing out loud. The sneer turned back into that malicious grin as Harry began to shake his head violently, "Indeed… I did  _try_ to spare her, you know… Lord Voldemort always keeps his promises… but the infuriating woman refused to stand aside… Knowing now what I do, I'd change all of that, but… well, I had been mislead… Oh, yes… Severus was quite mad for the girl… I should have known when he came to me…"

" _Snape_?!" Harry almost shrieked. He could feel himself turning green at the thought, " _Snape_ was in love with  _my_ mother?!"

Harry felt as if his entire world had been turned upside down and shaken vigorously. None of this could possibly be true. It just couldn't. That bitter, greasy git, could not possibly be Harry's father. No, his father was James Potter, and that was the end of it. Voldemort was  _obviously_ unstable in several different ways. This was just one of them. It  _had_  to be.

An amused smirk curled one side of that pale, lipless mouth, "As I said… But that's neither here nor there… No… The real question, is whether you will choose to honor… your father's original loyalties and remain among living… or whether you shall choose to nullify the contract… allowing me to eliminate you now as I had tried to mistakenly… all those years ago… This time without consequence to my person."

' _There certainly aren't a lot of options left for me,_ ' Harry thought ruefully. All the information stuffed into his head in a short amount of time and the high stress of the situation was beginning to wear at Harry, starting a migraine behind his left eye. He pinched the bridge of his nose to help stave it off. On one hand, Harry could help this madman, and hope that the assistance of the Stone would in some way heal a bit of his obviously shredded mind… He could either pledge loyalty to his parents' murderer… or he could die here in this chamber for real this time. And what if the man was lying all together? What then?

"I am  _not_  a patient man, Harry…" Voldemort hissed out pointedly, glaring with those penetrative crimson eyes.

Harry bit back the urge to inform him that he wasn't really a man at all right now, patient or otherwise.

Erring on the side of caution was Harry's best bet of survival, he concluded. If he was going to do this though, he was going to get something in return. There was no way he was going to help this murderous psychopath without some reparations being made. That just wasn't on.

"Alright… I'll help you… I'll swear to uphold the loyalty and the contract conditions, but only if-if I get my own personal contract in return," Harry glared, standing up as straight as he could manage. He might be acting on Slytherin instinct, but he'd see to it that he kept his cloak of Gryffindor bravery wrapped around him for this.

The snake-like face looked disturbingly pleased at this news, red eyes glittering almost greedily, "Of course… you shall have the same contract as my newest followers…"

Harry shook his head. He steadied his shaking hands by pressing them against his sides, "No… I mean, I want to look over it first. And I want to add some conditions. I want to be there when you question Snape about… about whether or not he knows… and I want a test to know for sure… and… and I want you to get me out of my Aunt's house."

Voldemort's face blanked, but Harry could tell he was a bit confused, "Your Aunt…? James Potter had no siblings…."

"My mother's sister… a muggle," Harry frowned, wondering why this was being discussed at all really, "I live with my muggle aunt, her muggle husband, and their muggle son. They hate me, and I… I don't want to go back. That's one of my conditions."

Quirrell's head tilted back and Voldemort's face became vaguely murderous. Those serpentine nostrils flared alarmingly as he hissed venomously, "That… goes without saying… Magical children should not be left with  _muggles…_  If your father's loyalty hasn't wavered you will… be returned to him… if I am forced to kill him for disloyalty… We shall find some other lodging for you… I will have the contract quickly… Now, you must hurry… uphold your end… Time is running out…"

Harry nodded, and stepped closer to Quirrell, taking care to keep out of arm's reach as he came up to the mirror. Wary green eyes slid from Voldemort's terrifying visage to look at their reflection. The image of a pale and shaky boy stared back at him. The mirror seemed to waver, then, after a moment, his reflection smiled mischievously as it stuck one hand into it's trouser pocket. Harry watched as his grinning reflection pulled forth a small glowing red stone, winked, and placed it back into the pocket. As it was replaced Harry felt the object being pushed into his  _actual_ trousers, and took a sharp intake of breath. What a creepy feeling. He was going to have nightmares about mirrors for ages.

Slowly, he turned to Voldemort. This was it. No going back after this. Harry frowned, now more glad than ever that Hermione couldn't have followed him to witness it. Oh, Merlin, what would his friends think? The promise of escaping the Dursley's and not being killed was a weighty price though. And perhaps he could convince the man to take a less violent path to victory this time? Merlin, this kind of optimism surely bordered on insanity. This  _had_ to be worth it in the end, though.

He hoped fervently that it would be as he pulled the Stone from his pocket with clammy shaking fingers, and held it out for Voldemort to take in one of Quirrell's creepy backwards facing hands. Yuck.

"Yes…  _finally_... " Voldemort rasped as he plucked the Stone from Harry's outstretched hand. With another predatory grin, the wraith regarded Harry, "Your contract will be waiting for you after you return from the Infirmary… As soon as you sign it, it will return to me… you will have to make as if… you are returning to the  _muggles_ , but… I will have you retrieved before you make it there… Then we shall proceed with the rest of your…  _conditions…_ "

Harry nodded nervously before he caught the full meaning. He froze and gave Voldemort a look he knew likely advertised his fear, "Th-the  _Infirmary_?!"

Voldemort smirked, "Well… we wouldn't want anyone to know you… gave me the Stone  _purposefully_ … would we…? Quirrell will make it look as if… you were overpowered, and… stun you… I will place a block on these memories until you receive your contract… Sweet dreams, Harry…"

Harry yelped as Quirrell whipped around, a satisfied grin on his pale, oddly small looking face and his wand in hand, "Hold still,  _Potter._ This won't hurt much.  _Stupefy!"_

And everything went black.


	2. Signed in Blood

The next time Harry opened his eyes it was to the frowning face of Albus Dumbledore, a terrified looking Professor McGonagall, a paler than usual Snape, and a perplexed Madam Pomfrey. The mediwitch had her wand pointed at Harry's chest, and the rest of the present staff had crowded around the end of Harry's Infirmary bed.

"What…" Harry croaked groggily, eyes half-lidded. Merlin, he needed some water, "What happened…?"

Dumbledore shook his head, sighing softly as he handed Harry a glass of water from the bedside table. The boy gulped it down thankfully while the Headmaster answered in a tired voice, "It appears that Professor Quirrell managed to obtain the Philosopher's Stone for his master despite our, and  _your_ , best efforts, Harry."

Harry frowned as he handed the glass back. The boy sent a flickering look toward the positively ill-looking Snape, then back to Dumbledore, "Voldemort, you mean? Is he going to come back, then?"

Dumbledore nodded solemnly as the other three flinched.

"Indeed, my boy… That is what it seems."

"He doesn't really have anything wrong with him, Albus," Madam Pomfrey interjected with a puzzled frown, "Just that stun and a small bump on his head from where he fell… It's very odd. I would have expected worse, to be honest with you."

Snape's glittering black eyes narrowed onto Harry suspiciously. When the boy accidentally made eye contact with the dour man he felt a pressure behind his eyes, before Snape jerked back with a bewildered almost confused scowl. Harry raised a sleepy eyebrow in response, and then turned back to the Headmaster as he started speaking again.

"Perhaps Quirrell didn't actually want to harm Harry…" Dumbledore frowned deeper, "That doesn't make much sense… Unless he was being extorted and tried to get out of it...? Harry, my dear boy, can you tell us what transpired in the chamber?"

Harry shook his head wearily. He couldn't remember exactly what happened. There were the potions, and the black fire, and then he came through the archway to see Quirrell, then… nothing, "No sir… I don't remember. Sorry."

"You don't remember?" the Headmaster's bushy white eyebrows rose slightly.

"He's telling the truth, Albus," Snape confirmed in a voice that was much quieter than normal. Harry frowned at the man. He wasn't convinced Snape wasn't a mind reader. Plus... there was something important about Snape, but he couldn't recall what it might be. He hadn't been in the chamber. The boy shook his head to clear the ache starting up in his mind from trying to think about it. Harry looked back at the Headmaster, who seemed even more grave than before.

"Well, there's nothing that can be done for it," The elderly man sighed, "We will just have to do as much damage control as we can. The Ministry must be informed as soon as possible. I daresay Cornelius will be difficult to convince of the truth. The public  _must_  be prepared in any case."

"That's all well and good, Albus, but if you've no further need of my patient he should have some natural rest now. He might not have been injured too badly, but the ordeal has taken a bit out of him. If you'll all go on he can get some rest and get back to his dorm by tomorrow morning," Madam Pomfrey grumbled at the rest of the staff. She waved her arms in a shooing motion and scowled lightly, "Go on, now. Plot somewhere else. If you've further questions you can ask him after he's rested up. He has nothing more tonight."

Snape inclined his head and swept from the Infirmary without a backward look. He was followed closely by Professor McGonagall, who patted Harry's blanket covered foot and gave him a small strained smile and a, "stiff upper lip, Potter," before she left. Dumbledore gave them both his own grandfatherly smile.

"Right you are, Poppy. A speedy recovery, Harry," The elderly man patted the same foot as McGonagall and followed at a more sedate pace. Madam Pomfrey shook her head and gave a small exasperated sigh as she rechecked Harry's blankets.

"That  _man_ … so impatient... " She mumbled under her breath, "There you are dear. Take a rest now, and in the morning you can rejoin your friends. The Leaving Feast will be the day after, so you'll have some time to relax before the train ride home."

* * *

When Harry woke the next morning he felt as if nothing had even happened at all. Madam Pomfrey checked him over one last time, and then let him dress and go to breakfast. Instead of heading to the Great Hall where the rest of his housemates were eating, however, Harry felt the strongest desire to traipse up to Gryffindor tower and check through his things in the dorm. It was like a pull deep in his gut, and he followed it apprehensively.

The walk up went uninterrupted other than the strange look he got from the Fat Lady. Once behind the portrait, Harry rushed through the common room and up the spiral staircase to the first year dorm room. Everyone else was down in the Great Hall, so all their bed hangings had been opened up. All except Harry's, which despite him not being there to sleep in it, had it's bed hangings pulled shut. It all felt oddly ominous.

Harry exhaled forcefully, and headed to his bed regardless of his misgivings. He cautiously pulled back the crimson fabric and peeked inside. Sitting on bedspread was a single rolled parchment with a black wax seal. Harry frowned and climbed on his bed to read the mysterious letter. When his fingers made contact with the smooth parchment all of Harry's memories from the previous night came back to him in a dizzying rush.

It took a few moments to put all the events and emotions together, but once Harry grasped what happened he felt positively ill. Snape might be his  _father_? He helped Voldemort get the Stone? He promised to sign  _his life_ to the man that murdered his parents?! Oh, Merlin, what had he been thinking?

After a few minutes of deep breathing, Harry managed to break the wax seal and shakily unroll the parchment to read the contract within. As he did, an elegant black quill with a metal tip fell out onto the bed, but Harry ignored it for the moment. The document was very straightforward, fairly blunt, and all the things inside it were exactly as Voldemort and Harry had agreed. He was to be removed from the Dursleys, to be present for the questioning of Snape, and a test was to be administered to both of them to make certain of Harry's paternity. Furthermore, Harry was to sign any services that might be required of him to Voldemort, give his unwavering loyalty ( _or forfeit his life_ ), and once he was of age Harry was to take something called the Dark Mark. He had no idea what  _that_  was, but it sounded scary.

The boy was a little surprised that the Dark Lord had kept his word with the thing if he was perfectly honest. He was a  _Dark Lord_ , after all.

Harry spent a couple more seconds looking over the contract in case there was any small print (if there was it was smaller than  _he_  could see) before he finally decided to bite the bullet and sign on the line above where Voldemort himself had signed.

Harry picked up the quill from his bed to see that it had a smaller piece of parchment wrapped around the part he'd normally hold. Unwrapping the little note revealed that the quill would use Harry's own blood as ink, and that it would sting a little. This made him even more apprehensive about this entire debacle, but he swallowed his fear down and reminded himself that he was doing this so that Voldemort would keep his word and wouldn't kill him later and he wouldn't have to live with the Dursleys anymore. He hoped, anyway.

As the metal tip touched the parchment Harry felt the pricking on the back of his left hand begin. He bit his lip and finished signing the contract as quickly as possible to get the uncomfortable sensation over with faster. When he finished the quill and parchment instantly disappeared from him, leaving him staring at his name scratched red and angry on the back of his left hand.

Harry really hoped this wasn't a mistake, but he wasn't counting on it yet.

* * *

Over the next two weeks Harry hid the cut on his hand and tried not to think too much about what was going to happen to him after he got off the Hogwarts Express. At the Leaving Feast Dumbledore decided to give Gryffindor some last minute points. Ron was absolutely delighted, and Hermione looked a tempered kind of pleased. The whole thing just made Harry feel even worse. It wasn't as if they'd actually stopped him after all.

The rest of the night Draco sent murderous glares from across the Great Hall and Harry did his best to ignore the blonde prat. It was much more difficult to ignore the seething and darkly thoughtful looks from Snape, however. Harry tried to tell himself that it wasn't his fault, and that he didn't care what the man thought of him, but with the possibility of Snape being his father over his head it was (unfairly, as far as Harry was concerned) largely ineffective.

He managed to lay low until it was time to board the Express once again, however, by spending large amounts of time sulking in the tower and trying to stuff all his time with his friends. Harry had been a little scared he may never see them again after the Summer. Eventually, though, the three of them were squashing themselves into a compartment on the train with Neville.

The ride back to London seemed much shorter than the ride to Hogwarts. Harry tried to distract himself by gorging himself on treats and playing games of Exploding Snap with Ron and Neville, but before he knew it they were pulling in to the station and his friends were all hugging him goodbye and telling him they'd write. Harry hoped they could.

Harry gathered his things onto a trolley and wheeled them all out onto the muggle side of the station. As he walked closer to the entrance the heavy feeling in Harry's gut seemed to grow. Voldemort hadn't said how he'd pick Harry up, only letting him know that he would be taken before he could get to the Dursley residence. He hoped it would happen soon so he could stop worrying about it and start worrying about something else. Like remaining alive.

While he was situating his trunk and Hedwig's cage up against the wall to wait, a familiar looking man with deep blue eyes and thin tawny brown hair saddled up beside him. Harry lifted his eyes to the man slowly and frowned. The man was dressed in an ill-fitting grey suit that seemed rather outdated for a young muggle.

"P-Potter?" The man cringed, "Ready to leave, then?"

Harry's eyes opened as wide as he could get them, " _Professor Quirrell_?!"

"Hush!" Quirrell cringed, "Don't shout my name! Come along. He isn't very patient, you know."

Quirrell didn't have to specify who he was speaking about. Harry blanched and quickly grabbed his things, following after his old professor through the throng of commuters and into a secluded alcove.

"Hold on to my arm, Potter," Quirrell instructed, taking Hedwig's cage from on top of Harry's trunk and offering his other arm, "Grab your trunk."

Harry took a hold of the handle of his trunk and cautiously grabbed at the man's arm as instructed. Then Quirrell was spinning on the spot and it felt like every part of Harry's body was being squeezed into a rubber hose and out the other side. The experience was singularly uncomfortable.

As soon as it happened though, it had stopped, and Harry was stumbling to his knees and taking gasping breaths in a desperate attempt to keep all the sweets he'd eaten on the train inside his stomach. Gingerly, Harry laid his sweaty head down on the cool black marble flooring beneath him.

"First time side-long Apparating, ey, Potter?" Quirrell chuckled nervously as he sat down Hedwig's cage beside Harry on the floor. Hedwig hooted in aggravation, "Not to worry. You'll get used to it."

Somehow, Harry really doubted that he'd ever get used to  _any such thing._  He caught his breath after a few moments and pushed himself up off the floor sluggishly. The room they'd appeared in was large, dark, and mostly empty. There were walnut double doors behind them, stained even darker than natural, and to the front of them was a grand staircase leading up to the second floor with similar stained walnut railings carved  _unsurprisingly_  into rather lethargic and unnaturally long pit vipers. Along the walls (which were painted a curious sort of charcoal grey) were a couple of intricately carved display tables (more snakes,  _of course_ ) in the same wood as the doors. The one on the left had nothing at all on it, but the one on the right had a small silver urn type of container and sat by a fireplace that Harry thought might could fit a family of three, or possibly Hagrid inside it comfortably. On either side of the staircase were arches leading to even darker areas of the building, and through the one on the right a tall wiry man was coming to greet them.

"Is my entryway to your liking, Potter?" The man smirked, his silky black robes billowing behind him in a way that reminded Harry of Snape. His dark hair was streaked grey at the temples, and fell in soft waves around his face. It was cut in a short, old time-y but elegant sort of way, which fit the man's almost perfect looking face rather well. Harry squinted a little at the man as he analyzed the strong jaw, high cheekbones, smooth pale skin, and… Horrifyingly familiar crimson eyes.  _Oh, surely not…_

"Voldemort?" Harry squeaked out, eyes widening in shock.

The man smirked haughtily in response, "Indeed, Potter. Welcome to my manor."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I had someone review that they didn't understand this plot, and that they didn't want Lily to be "a whore". I'd like you to know that that is not the case in this story, reader, and that you aren't really supposed to understand the entirety of the plot yet. It is a story that I plan to lay out little by little.
> 
> Thanks for reading, guys. Next update should be the 16th.


	3. Judgement Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Beta - I appreciate spelling/grammar mistakes I missed being pointed out.

After Voldemort more or less greeted Harry and gave a threatening reprimand about using his name (" _It's 'my Lord'!"_ ) Harry was shown up to the biggest bedroom he'd ever seen in his life by a small, wrinkly creature with large brown eyes and very large floppy ears that he was told was called a House Elf. As he took a look around the lavish room decorated in muted greys the little elf gave him instructions in a clear but shrill voice.

"Master is saying Young Master should be bathed and dressed in new robes from wardrobes quickly, and to be calling for elfs to be bringing Young Master to the gathering hall as soon as Young Master is finished so's yous can be calling's Master's Death Eaters together," the house elf squeaked out nervously as Harry wandered over to the wardrobe in question. He opened the heavy wooden door, feeling curious, to find it stuffed with black robes detailed in different colored linings and embroidery, but in the same luxurious fabric as Voldemort's had been in the Entry Hall, "Young Master is to be bringing his Hiding Cloak."

"Hiding Cloak? You mean the Invisibility Cloak...? Are these robes all for me…?" Harry asked the creature uncertainly.

"Yes, Young Master," the elf replied, sounding very sure indeed, nodding to both questions.

Harry frowned at the robes in confusion. At most he had expected a small bedroom when he arrived wherever the Dark Lord was, and at the worst a stint in a dungeon or something. He  _had_ supposedly killed the man as a baby after all. Yet here he stood, gawking at a wardrobe full of expensive robes just for him in the most spacious and comfortable room he'd ever seen in his life.

"Er, which ones should I wear…?" Harry looked over at his shoulder at the house elf.

The creature looked positively giddy by the question, wringing it's spidery hands together in front of the clean grey pillowcase it was wearing, "Young Master should be wearings the robes with green snakies along the hems. They would be lookings very nice with the Young Master's green eyes."

Harry sighed in resignation and nodded. The Dark Lord would probably love that, anyway, and a happy Voldemort was a decidedly alive Harry. Best to keep playing it safe for now.

"Thank you, er… What was your name?"

"Teesley is being Teesley's name, Young Master," The elf said with a small smile, "There is no need for thankings. Call for Teesley when Young Master is being finished and Teesly will takes Young Master to the gathering hall."

With that the little elf  _popped_ away, leaving Harry to find his way into the ensuite bathroom. The shower was much too large for a single eleven year old boy, and Harry absolutely loved it. He had never had such a relaxing shower before. He resolved quickly that if he ended up staying here he'd try the bathtub that was as large as a swimming pool to his reckoning as well. After scrubbing himself clean, Harry toweled off, dressed in his new robes, and attempted to wrestle his unruly black hair into some semblance of order. It laid just a bit flatter than normal, which Harry decided ultimately was as successful as that endeavor could ever be.

After he left the bathroom he decided to don some of his black uniform socks and his school shoes. He doubted that his only other shoes (Dudley's old worn out trainers) would be acceptable to the Dark Lord. Especially for what the man had planned for the night.

Harry sighed and stood from the plushy bed, smoothing down his robes nervously before retrieving the Invisibility Cloak from his trunk. He frowned at the silky material for a moment thinking about how James Potter might not be his father if Voldemort was to be believed. Harry felt a twinge in his heart at the possibility of not actually owning the cloak through James Potter.

'Well, now or never', he supposed, as he shoved the fabric into his robe pocket.

"Teesley…?" Harry called out into the otherwise empty room hesitantly, feeling quite ridiculous.

_Pop!_

"Young Master is being ready?" Teesley asked with a small smile.

Harry nodded and did his best to stand straighter, "Yes. I'm ready."

"Young Master be following Teesley, then," The elf piped up, gesturing toward the door and moving that way herself. Harry followed her trying his best to memorize the way down and keeping an eye out for anything that might be dangerous. After a walk down two separate staircases, and many many hallways, Teesley finally stopped them in front of a set of gigantic double doors on the ground floor. She snapped her fingers, and the heavy doors creaked open into a magnificent ballroom, colored and decorated in the same gloomy tones as the rest of the building. The crimson rays that came with the end of a sunset were gleaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows on the far side of the room giving the place an odd sort of warmth, and the two crystal chandeliers hanging delicately from the ceiling captured every last bit of light.

Eventually Harry's eyes were drawn to the far end of the room. The Dark Lord was standing on a large obsidian dais beside a large matching throne. The man's piercing red eyes were looking Harry over critically, making the boy feel extremely nervous and more than a bit self conscious.

"Come here, boy," Voldemort commanded, turning back to look at his throne, "You may leave elf."

Teesley bowed deep, nose touching the floor, and  _popped_ away. Harry swallowed nervously, uncomfortable being left totally alone with the man. Not wanting to irritate the Dark Lord more than necessary, Harry set a brisk pace toward the dais. The older wizard turned as Harry came up to the edge and offered a pale elegant hand to help the boy up.

Harry took the man's disturbingly cold hand and attempted to cover both his feeling of incredulousness at the small show of consideration and the ever present anxiety the Dark Lord always inspired in him. Voldemort pulled Harry up with little effort and guided him with a firm hand on Harry's shoulder to stand beside the throne.

"You brought your cloak," It wasn't a question. Harry started to nod, but those piercing red eyes narrowed slightly before he could follow through.

"Yes, si- I mean, my Lord," Harry frowned up at the man. Voldemort smirked with a sadistic kind of amusement squeezing Harry's shoulder once before he turned and sat in the throne.

"So you  _can_  learn," the Dark Lord drawled. If it was anyone else Harry would have said the man was teasing him, "Put on your cloak and stay where you are. I will call you out when it is time, do you understand?"

"Yes... my Lord," Harry mumbled, pulling the cloak from his pocket and wrapping it around his shoulders.

"Good," Voldemort nodded sharply, "Do stay quiet. I'd hate for you to mess up the flow of the meeting. It is a reunion after all."

Harry grimaced at the semi-threat, but pulled up the hood of his cloak in order to get away with not having to address the Dark Lord again. Not long after, Quirrell scuttled in wearing nondescript black robes and grasping some solid white object, looking as nervous as he had at the train station. As the man prostrated himself just inside the doorway towards Voldemort, Harry couldn't help but wonder where his spine went. He hadn't stuttered at all in the chamber or in the entry hall, and now he was back to being a nervous wreck. Maybe the two weeks his ex-Professor had spent with only the Dark Lord for company had caused him to regress. Or maybe Voldemort was just scarier to other people, even his own followers? Who knew.

"M-my Lord," Quirrell simpered.

"Get over here, Quirrell, and give me your arm," Voldemort sneered at the subtly shivering man. Quirrell wasted no time rushing to his Lord at the foot of the dias. Harry watched with morbid curiosity as his old Professor bared his inner left forearm to reveal the image of a snake twisting out from a skull in vivid red ink.

The Dark Lord grasped the man's wrist in his deceptively strong hand and pulled it up toward himself a bit for no other reason really than to make Quirrell stretch out uncomfortably. Then the thumb of Voldemort's other hand was being pressed harshly to Quirrell's tattoo and that bright red ink was turning jet black. Harry shuddered reflexively as Quirrell whimpered and the skin around the mark began to look a little irritated.

"Put on your mask," The Dark Lord murmured, releasing Quirrell's arm suddenly and leaning back leisurely in his throne, "See to the entryway. As soon as they've all arrived bring them to me and then stand in the back. I will require you for the testing after I determine guilt."

"Y-yes, m-my Lord," Quirrell gasped, bowing quickly, throwing on white skull mask Harry could now see he'd been holding and all but running back out of the room. Voldemort rubbed at his temple and rolled his eyes at the man's retreating form, and Harry couldn't help his nervous grin under the cloak at the frustratingly human expression of irritation. It was really weird to see after witnessing the man as a parasite on the back of someone's head. If he couldn't find humour in the horrifying situation he was sure to go mad himself.

After what felt like eons of waiting Quirrell returned with a small group of people wearing the same black robes and masks, all of them moving slowly as if afraid and shocked. There were a few gasps as they caught sight of the young-looking Dark Lord sitting on his throne, but they were all quick to bow very low to him at the door. Voldemort looked at Harry from the corner of his eye, likely checking to make sure he hadn't moved or become suddenly visible, before standing lazily from his seat.

"Come closer, my friends…" Voldemort instructed in his silkiest tone of voice. His followers stood partially, but kept their masked faces turned down like chastised children as they crowded around the dais. As well they should. The Dark Lord was positively radiating malicious disappointment that sent a shudder down Harry's back even though it wasn't directed at him. One by one they came to the edge of the dais to take the hem of Voldemort's silky black robes gingerly to the mouths of their masks in a disturbing parody of a tender kiss. A few of them mumbled "My Lord," or "Master" as they came up in some vain attempt to display fealty to their Lord. Voldemort's face betrayed no emotion as he waited for them to finish and stand around the edge of the dais in a semi-circle.

"It has been a decade since we saw each other last," Voldemort mused quietly, his face still stony, "Ten years… and you all look  _so well._  Healthy, and powerful as if it were just yesterday. Yet, none of you came looking for me, did you? You who I thought were my most loyal… All of you swore fealty to me once. Proclaimed your allegiance to me and our cause… but I only stand here before you now due to the aid of one previously unmarked follower and the wise decision to continue living by one of your children."

A shudder rolled through the group. A masked man whose long white blonde hair fell from under his hood made a distressed noise that he attempted to muffle. The Dark Lord smirked at the blonde man and shook his head slightly.

"No, Lucius… Not your son," Voldemort told the man in that same ominously quiet voice. The blonde man didn't relax at all from this information and a few of the others tensed up as well, "I am very disappointed that none of you bothered to look for me when you all knew that the Mark had not disappeared completely… That you chose to disassociate with me and the cause; chose to claim ignorance and enchantment rather than stand by loyally. It does make me wonder… It does… Whether any of you deserve the honor of being at my side in the resurgence. I am a merciful lord, though, of course… I will forgive, though never forget. You will all pay for your doubt in me individually. Once you have paid we will not speak of it again. Do we understand each other, my friends?"

There was a unanimous "Yes, my Lord" throughout the group, a few bowing, and one man completely prostrating himself on the cold marble tiles. The prostrated man whimpered about forgiveness, muffled behind his mask that was pressed to the floor. The Dark Lord rolled his eyes openly at the man and sneered.

"Stand up, Avery, before I have to curse you," Voldemort bit out, "We will discuss your penance later, for now…"

As the Dark Lord turned back to his throne to sit down the Death Eaters gave small glances at each other with disbelieving eyes, as if they had all expected Avery to be cursed immediately. All gazes returned to the throne quickly, but Harry couldn't help wondering if perhaps Voldemort used to be much quicker to punish his followers in the past.

"Severus…" The Dark Lord hissed softly, leaning back into his throne lazily, "Step forward."

Harry watched as Snape walked out from between two shorter but stockier men, long black hair escaping from his mask and hood. His Potions Professor bowed deeply, and replied clearly in his deep velvety voice, "My Lord."

"Ah… My Poisoner," Voldemort acknowledged sardonically. He smirked lazily as if he knew some great joke. Harry wasn't sure if that wasn't far from accurate, "He who once stood at my Left Hand… before my fall. Tell me, Severus... did you know you had an heir?"

"An… heir, my Lord?" Snape asked incredulously, but not disrespectfully. Harry was impressed that the man didn't shake or tremble at all standing singled out before the Dark Lord.

"Yes… It seems not then. You must realize Severus, that I am only giving you the benefit of the doubt in this matter because it was your progeny that played an integral part in my resurrection and to the return of my… complete mental faculties."

A soft murmur went through the Death Eaters behind Snape at this and Voldemort lifted a lazy eyebrow at them. They all quieted quickly under their Lord's gaze.

"Yes, I do admit to a certain level of… instability in the few years before I was… momentarily halted," The Dark Lord shrugged noncommittally before turning his sharp red eyes back on to Snape, "The boy has shown enormous loyalty fitting the son of one I had called my Left Hand. Something I had not expected at first… Though he complied to keep his life originally, he has obeyed without question since, and I wonder, Severus… Do you still hold that same loyalty?"

Voldemort stood from his throne and swept gracefully from the dais, taking one long legged stride to come unnervingly close to Snape's face. The Dark Lord slowly walked around the unflinching man, running his crimson eyes all over his rigid form in a predatory manner. Snape went to reply but was cut off before the first syllable even left his mouth.

"Don't answer yet, Severus… You only asked of me one thing in reward for your loyalty after joining the Inner Circle. One thing. The life of a woman you loved-" Voldemort stopped himself at the slight stiffening of Snape's shoulders and grinned lazily, "Pardon. The life of a woman you  _still_ love. Did you doubt that your lord would attempt to grant this request to you, Severus?"

"...You did kill her, my Lord," Snape replied almost brazenly. Harry tensed under the cloak and squeezed the silky fabric in his fists. What on earth was the man thinking?! Voldemort might be calmer than he apparently used to be, but he was still the bloody Dark Lord!

"I did," Voldemort inclined his head in acknowledgement, "But I did not promise you that she would live. I promised you that I would try to spare her. I gave the Potter woman three chances to turn aside, but she was not the kind of mother that would sacrifice her child's life for her own, was she Severus?"

"...No… No, my Lord," Snape replied absently, "She was not…"

"It was… unfortunate that that night went the way that it did. Both of them could have kept living if I had only known the truth from the beginning," the Dark Lord's eyes narrowed dangerously, "The question now is whether  _you_ were willing to sacrifice your child's life for hers."

Snape sputtered and jerked back as if stung, "The Potter boy!? That child is not mine, my Lord!"

"Silence," Voldemort hissed, "I know that he is, but I did promise the boy we would make certain. Harry. Come down."

Harry yanked the Invisibility Cloak from his shoulders and stuffed it into the deep pocket of his robes as he walked to the edge of the dais and slid off the side to the muffled gasps of the rest of the Death Eaters. He stopped beside the Dark Lord, and looked up at Snape's masked face before he made a show of bowing slightly towards Voldemort and giving a respectful, "My Lord," that had Snape convulsively clenching his fists as if he wanted badly to strangle someone.

The Dark Lord reached out and gently plucked the mask from Snape's face, handing it to Harry, who took it obediently. The Potions Professor's face showed no emotion, and Voldemort tutted softly as he beckoned Quirrell from the back of the group. The man shoved through the tight line, as he fumbled for two potion vials inside his robe pockets. Voldemort sneered as he snatched them from Quirrell's shaking hands.

"First, we will test evidence of paternity," the Dark Lord held up one of the vials filled with opalescent white potion and shook it a bit, "You know how this works, Severus. One drop of blood from you."

Snape gave a brusque nod and retrieved his wand carefully to slice into his finger with a small cutting curse. Voldemort held out the vial and Snape let a drop of his blood fall into the potion. Then Harry's hand was being grabbed firmly and was submitted to the same treatment by the bone white of the Dark Lord's own wand. After both of their blood had been added the potion began to froth a bit, slowly changing color until it was suddenly the same crimson color as Voldemort's satisfied eyes. Snape looked horribly ill, and Harry guessed that the results must somehow have been unfavorable.

"There it is. An unquestionable positive, as I suspected," The man practically purred at a very pale looking Snape. Harry could feel the blood drain from his own face, and wide green eyes turned to look in horror over the Potions Master, "Well, you certainly look surprised, don't you, Severus? I wonder how truthful that reaction is. Now we'll test your loyalty and find out for sure. Open your mouth."

Snape took one great big deep breath before he complied with the order. The pale man opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out a bit. Voldemort smirked as he opened the other vial filled with a clear potion that looked a lot like water and carefully dispensed three drops on to the organ. Snape's eyes seemed to glaze over just a bit after a moment.

"Very good… Let's just check," The Dark Lord smiled, mockingly polite, "What is your name and date of birth?"

"Severus Tobias Snape. January ninth, 1960," Snape replied in an odd monotone.

"That's it," Voldemort gave one sharp nod and continued on with the important questions. Harry supposed this potion must be some sort of truth serum or something. He gave a nervous shiver from beside the Dark Lord, "Were you aware before tonight, the 20th of June, 1992, that the child born to Lily Potter was your son?"

"No. I did not know," Snape answered without hesitation. Harry let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. At least the man hadn't been cruel while knowing Harry was his son. He hadn't thought about it before then, but the idea was nauseating. There were enough relatives hating him in his life with the Dursleys, thank you very much.

Voldemort pursed his lips a bit and narrowed his eyes, "Well, that's one charge of treason stricken from the record… Did you believe that I had kept my word to you, Severus, to spare Lily Potter's life if I could?"

"No, I did not," Snape replied. The Dark Lord nodded slowly and fingered at his bone white wand.

"As I suspected… And did you turn from me, Severus, when you doubted my word?" Voldemort sneered, red eyes flashing.

Snape struggled for a moment to keep from answering, but Harry could see him lose the battle with his tongue, and felt an odd sort of fear flash up in his heart, "Yes."

The Dark Lord jerked back and paced behind Harry for a moment, looking genuinely torn. A few heart-stopping moments later the towering form of Voldemort was once again at Harry's side and glaring at Snape feverishly, "And now. Now that you know that I kept my word. That your son has sworn to me… Where do your loyalties lie, Severus?"

"I…" Snape's placid face twitched as if it were attempting to pull on some emotion but couldn't quite yet due to the potion, "My loyalty lies with my son."

"An intriguing answer… And why is that, Severus? The bonds of family do not exist for the two of you yet. Why do you pledge yourself so readily to the place Harry has signed his own loyalty?"

"...In order to stay as a spy Dumbledore made me take an Unbreakable Vow to keep him safe," Snape replied, face twitching again like he was starting to come out of the trance like state the potion had put him in.

Voldemort gave the Potions Master a dark look and rested a cold hand on Harry's shoulder, "Did he now…? Well then, Severus… It looks as if our interests line up for the time being, luckily for you. Your son's contract was a little more binding than your own, you see. If at anytime young Harry's loyalty wavers back the other way his life is forfeit, so it would seem… that your own loyalty should be confirmed by default."

Snape blanched and met Harry's eyes looking absolutely terrified. The boy frowned and avoided the man's gaze by turning his head in the Dark Lord's direction.

"We will still make sure," Voldemort told them with a menacing hiss, "That your contract is updated to current standards, Severus. Then you will serve a  _proper_  penance for your doubt and disloyalty."


	4. Unintentional Family Traditions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter here and with a twist I hadn't originally planned for, but decided would make this whole thing a bit... more. (Obviously it's been added to the summary as a result). Because of it I now have a definitive plot, so that's helpful, even with the slowly forming family ties (hilariously the term 'slowburn' applies here. No one is comfortable with their biological parent information for quite some time and it's gonna take a while for them to figure out how to interact. Specially since the least emotionally damaged one is apparently an eleven, almost twelve year old that has been consistently locked in a cupboard for ten years. Cool).
> 
> Someone asked if I was going off canon so I should probably point out - yes, definitely AU here, DEFINITELY. We're gonna say Tom picked up his Lordships via goblin after Hogwarts (hence the manor, whose full story will be given later), the Horcrux's exist but Harry is not one, and while kiiiiind of murderous/prone to violence, Tom is not incapable of love... he just largely prefers not too and is bad at showing it platonic way in any case. Also of the three, the only person whose parents have not changed from canon are Tom's. I'll try and do more A/N's for things I may not make overly clear. Sorry, y'all.
> 
> And No, Nagini isn't here yet. It isn't known for sure whether Tom had her before or after the second wraith trip to Albania, but I chose for him not to have found her yet in this fic. She will eventually make it into the story though.
> 
> Oh, and the underlined and italic text between these "~ ~" is what I'm using to indicate Parseltongue.
> 
> Let me know if you spot any spelling grammar errors, as I am Beta-less and miss things myself.
> 
> Sorry for the long Note. Enjoy!

Severus had been completely prepared to either die or spend so long under the Cruciatus that he no longer remembered his own name. He was completely unprepared for the Dark Lord to decide to keep him alive and sane, and furthermore confused when the man told Severus to follow him to his office after the others had been spoken too and given orders. He had fully expected, at that point, to be dropped into the dungeons after his murky declaration of loyalties since he hadn't been killed... _yet_.

Absolute panic flared in his stomach when the boy was parted from them and sent back to his room with a house elf escort. Green eyes flashed back over the child's shoulder in an unreadable expression only once before he rounded a corner and left line of sight. Severus would really like to live long enough to speak to the boy and at least apologize for not being able to get him out of the mess he'd unknowingly put them in by not daring to question whether Lily's son was also his. They could have avoided this completely if he'd been able to raise the brat from the beginning.

He was firmly guided inside a stark, dim office covered wall to ceiling with books, by a vice grip on his shoulder. Even through the thick fabric of his Death Eater robes, the strong hand pinched tightly. Severus was stood in front of the Dark Lord's desk and given a final strong squeeze before the man swept gracefully around him to lean against the dark wood of his desk. For several long moments the vicious red eyes of the Dark Lord bored into the Potions Master, and Severus fought off the urge to fidget like an errant schoolboy.

"I have decided…" The Dark Lord drawled lowly, shuttering those unsettling eyes and turning his sharp chin up to look down his nose at Severus, "You will be corrected privately here tonight, and have your Dark Mark put into Parole. Publicly you will earn back your honor as I used to enforce before my break from reality… back when my Death Eaters were instead Knights of Walpurgis. After I have retrieved my most faithful from Azkaban your task will be overseen by Bellatrix."

On Parole, Severus' Dark Mark would apply a steadily increasing burn if he were to do anything he knew the Dark Lord would not agree with. The newest Death Eaters were put on Parole as such, and supposedly it had been a punishment for higher ups before the Dark Lord began using the _Cruciatus_ and actual death as his prefered deterrent for stupidity. A muscle twitched in Severus' jaw convulsively, "Bellatrix, my Lord?"

"Yes. She is least likely to let you finish before you have earned it back, even if you are both there for days… or weeks," the Dark Lord smirked, "It is to begin the first full meeting I call after your peers have all been made aware of your transgressions. You are also 'Grounded' to the manor until you have earned back your honor, unless with both myself and Harry, who you are now to guard and teach the things he should have learned about being an heir much earlier in life."

"You will… allow me to be near him…? It will be difficult to retain my position in Hogwarts under these circumstances, my Lord" Severus added the last almost as an afterthought. It felt as though Severus had stepped into an alternate universe somewhere between Hogwarts and the manor. Nothing that had happened since he'd walked through the door made any sense at all. It had been decades since The Dark Lord had used "Grounding" on an infraction, and _never_ for absence of loyalty. Being unable to leave the manor like a child grated on Severus even as it seemed like a light sentencing. The Dark Lord's smirk returned as the man pushed off his desk and stepped closer to the Potions Master.

"I will. More than that, I _fully_ _expect_ you to raise him as you _should_ have, Severus. I'd prefer the House of Prince's bloodline to continue, if possible… Even _tainted_ as it is," the older man added with a disgusted sneer that Severus ignored, "The muggles your Headmaster put the boy with have damaged him, as well..." Severus jerked at that and narrowed black eyes on the slowly circling Dark Lord. The older wizard completely ignored Severus' concern as to his position in Hogwarts as he continued with, "Did you not know where the old man left him…? With the sister of your muggleborn witch?"

"No, my Lord," Severus ground out, clenching his fists tightly to keep his fury under control, "I was told he was being kept by relatives. It was decided that it was too risky for me to know whom and where. I had assumed him to be with a minor Potter branch-off. That does explain some of his ignorance."

The Dark Lord nodded absently, coming to a stop in front of Severus again. He looked at the Potions Master from the corner of his eye, tilting his head mock thoughtfully in the opposite direction, "One of the terms he named for his loyalty was that I remove him from the muggles. He told me they hate him… Very similar to how you asked me to keep you from your _own_ muggle father. It does make me wonder over his homelife before."

Severus sneered over the Dark Lord's shoulder at the very thought of Lily's sister around any magical child, "Petunia has always been a jealous little shrew. I doubt old age has changed her for the better."

The Dark Lord nodded again as if he already had guessed as much and turned away, returning to lean against his desk. The entire conversation felt oddly surreal, "We shall discuss it more at a later time. For now," he reached back and slid open one of the drawers of the desk to pull out a parchment roll sealed with black wax and a sleek black blood quill, "You shall sign your new contract, receive your private punishment, have your Dark Mark reworked, and then you are to take the rooms beside the boy's and across from mine. In the morning you will come with us to Gringotts. I must reactivate my own vaults. While we're there I want the boy recognized by the goblins as yours, and his status as an heir confirmed."

"Yes, my Lord," Severus replied quietly, wrestling down his apprehension and frustration. He hated the man for killing Lily… but if it kept him alive long enough to learn about the child he hadn't known he had and to try and make up some of his treatment of the boy…

Severus took the scroll and quill from the Dark Lord, broke the wax seal, and scrawled his signature in his own blood at the bottom, on part of the desk the other man wasn't leaning against. There it was, spelled out in black and red. Loyalty or death. He shook his head, sending sheets of inky black hair into his face, and stood up straight.

"Very good, Severus," the Dark Lord purred as he took the quill and contract back. Both were replaced in their drawer and then Severus was being pushed back into the middle of the room as the Dark Lord slipped his bone white wand from it's hidden sheath within the man's silken black robes, "Now let's get this unpleasant business taken care of, hm? _Crucio_!"

* * *

 

After the meeting Harry had been led back to his rooms by Teesley, and served dinner at the desk that had been pushed under one of the long windows. He picked at his meal and ate very little as he considered the events of the night. He still couldn't believe that his greasy potions professor was his father. He wasn't sure how he felt about having a parent alive Especially when it was this man of all people.

Yet the uncertainty of whether the man even wanted him or not churned in his gut. Snape's reaction to the potion had looked like fear, but that could have just been because it had come out in front of Voldemort. Then there was Snape's declaration that his loyalties were wherever Harry was, but that could just be the vow he had mentioned or something. Why would anyone _want_ to be his parent...? And why should he care? He didn't like Snape anyway, right?

Harry sighed heavily and pushed his mostly full plate away. He was too nervous to eat. Harry prepared for bed as he thought over all the strange behaviors of both the Dark Lord and Snape. The both had acted so oddly tonight. Ultimately he decided that they were both utterly mad as he finally snuggled underneath the covers of his new bed. Harry stared up blankly at the canopy. He spent most of that night worrying about what would happen the next day.

Harry must have dropped off to sleep at some point, because the next thing he knew Teesley was waking him up and announcing in her squeaky voice, "Young Master must wake up and be eating breakfast. Master be wanting Young Master to be dressed and downstairs to go on an outing."

"Thanks, Teesley," Harry mumbled as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and slowly pulled himself from the warm comfort of the bed, "Do you know where he wants to take me, by any chance…?"

The little elf nodded enthusiastically, "Master is taking Young Master and his Potions Master to see the Goblins."

Harry woke a little quicker at the mention of Snape and stared at her with wide eyes, "Really? The bank?"

"Yes, Young Master. Now you being quick. Master wants to be going soon," She smiled and snapped her fingers, summoning another meal tray full of breakfast food to the same desk he ate dinner at the night before, "Would Young Master like Teesley to be picking out his robes?"

Harry stood, shoved on his glasses, and walked over to the desk to dig in. He was much hungrier this morning than he had been the night before, "I… I think I can do it today. Thanks, Teesley."

"You is being welcomed!" She squeaked as she _popped_ away.

After Harry had eaten a fair amount of scrambled eggs, a few pieces of toast with a berry jam, and downed a goblet of pumpkin juice, he washed up in the bathroom and found his way to the wardrobe again. A few minutes of contemplation later, he picked an open black robe with looping royal blue trim and pulled it on over a button-up shirt in the same blue, and a pair of black trousers. Again, he chose to wear his uniform shoes for lack of anything better.

Once he'd attempted yet again to tame his hair (wondering the entire time, _'why it doesn't it lay flat like Snape's does… maybe if I grew it out and let it get greasy...? No, not worth it._ '), Harry called Teesley back and had her lead him to the Entry Hall where an exhausted looking Snape was waiting with an anxious sort of rigidness beside the seemingly bored Dark Lord. Both were predictably wearing black robes as well, and Harry spared a moment to imagine that they'd look like a murder of crows entering the bank together.

"Finally up?" Voldemort asked drily. The Dark Lord took one appraising look at Harry, inclined his head in what Harry assumed was acceptance of his appearance and then waved both the boy and Snape over to the gigantic fireplace without waiting for an answer, "We will be Flooing directly to the bank. Both of you will stay with me at all times," he shot a steely narrow-eyed glare at Snape, "Where I can see you. We will have business taken care of and return as quickly as possible. No lingering. Understood?"

"Yessir," Harry mumbled.

"Yes, my Lord," Snape replied quietly.

" _What_ was that, boys?" Voldemort hissed, yanking them both to a halt by their ears. Harry yelped at the harsh tug. Snape inhaled sharply, his dark eyes wider than Harry had ever seen them. His long dark hair looked to be caught in the Dark Lord's grip as well. The man looked absolutely bewildered by Voldemort's behavior. 

"Yes, my Lord!" They answered together a bit louder than before. The Dark Lord nodded in satisfaction. He pushed them forward and finally let go, allowing the two younger wizards to continue to move toward the fireplace. Harry rubbed at his ear. Snape was red faced and looking like he'd swallowed a full lemon. In front of the structure, Snape surprised Harry by placing a firm warm hand on his shoulder and pushing Harry gently inside. Snape followed behind and then the Dark Lord climbed in with a hand full of what looked like fine sand, effectively crowding them all together.

Noticing Harry's confused look, Snape asked, "Never Flooed before Po-… Harry?"

Harry shook his head and glanced between the Potions Master and the Dark Lord, "Er… will it hurt any?"

"Not if you can keep your feet," The Dark Lord smirked from the other side of Snape. The sand-like stuff was thrown down at their feet, starting emerald green flames that shot soot up into the air. The flames didn't actually burn them, oddly enough. In the same instance, Voldemort firmly called out, "Gringotts!"

Suddenly Harry was being hurtled up through the chimney endlessly, passing by what looked like more fireplaces at a rapid pace. After a few moments the sensation stopped and the three of them slammed down into another large fireplace in a cavernous white room filled with many more fireplaces of the same kind. Harry would have fallen flat on his face if Snape hadn't grabbed his shoulder in another firm grip as they landed. The boy blushed at the embarrassment of needing the man to keep him steady (' _Like a baby_!') and shook the long pale hand off subtly as he pretended to cough from the soot. The older man's hand returned almost immediately to Harry's dismay.

Voldemort led both of them in front of himself by taking _Snape's_ shoulder and pushing the man toward giant double doors at the far side of the room, guarded by goblins and with the same poetic warning from the front entrance engraved into it. Harry mused that the three of them probably looked more like some kind of odd human train than the murder of crows he originally thought of.

The goblin guards glared as they made their way past. Harry attempted to copy the older wizards' disregard, but at the last moment nervously bobbed his head in an almost bow at the vicious creatures and got a couple of sharp toothed smirks in acknowledgement. Snape rolled his eyes and pushed Harry through the door. They came out though the side of the bank, which was a little unnerving for some reason Harry couldn't quite pinpoint. The Dark Lord pulled them to the nearest goblin teller without fully leaving the shadows of the hall.

"We need to request a private room," Voldemort told the creature before he could even open his mouth to ask what they needed, "Quickly."

The goblin frowned, but stood and gestured for them to follow him. The Dark Lord let go of Snape's shoulder, and Snape reluctantly let Harry go as well. The three of them swiftly followed after the goblin teller in a sweep of snapping robes that had the boy covering his mouth to hide his amusement even as he tried to imitate the way the older two were walking. Maybe they _were_ crows after all.

The goblin stopped after several turns through some low-ceiling halls that brushed the top of the Dark Lord's head ( _much to the man's obvious irritation_ ) and opened a door for them to all to crowd through. Inside the room was a low half moon shaped table surrounded by soft leather chairs along the rounded side, and one smaller but higher set chair in the middle of the flat side.

"Sit," the goblin grumbled, giving each wizard a glare before he moved to seat himself in the smaller chair on the other side of the table. Harry hurried to sit down beside the Dark Lord who gracefully sat in the middle chair. Snape hesitated a moment, before he decided to seat himself with just as much grace on the other side of the Dark Lord. Harry frowned at the other two. How did they always look so _poised_ like that?

"I need to reactivate my vaults," Voldemort informed the goblin without preamble as he reclined back in his seat haughtily, "And the boy needs to be confirmed as Severus' heir."

The goblin's eyes narrowed at the Dark Lord, "And your name?"

"Lord Voldemort," Voldemort smirked wickedly. The goblin's body relaxed a bit and he shook his head grumbling under his breath about dramatic wizards as he stood and walked over to a file cabinet shoved in the corner behind him.

Harry frowned and looked up at the Dark Lord, "They just let you come in here knowing who you are?"

Snape made a distressed noise in the back of his throat, but Voldemort just chuckled and gripped the back of Harry's neck in an oddly comforting hold, "The goblins do not take sides in the affairs of Wizards. It's not good business, you see?"

Harry pursed his lips in thought but gave a curt nod. The goblin returned to the table and slid a file over to Voldemort, who released Harry's neck and promptly opened it up to remove a golden key and flip through the parchment inside.

"We'll do a blood test for the matter of inheritance," The goblin clipped out, setting a long sharp knife on the table next to a little copper bowl in front of the boy, and a blank piece of parchment and an odd stubby fully-silver quill in front of himself. Then the goblin stared at Harry blankly for a few moments.

Harry frowned and looked up from under his long fringe at the goblin.

"Uhm. Sorry, sir, I don't know your name," He grimaced. Voldemort and Snape's heads snapped up at him to stare incredulously.

The goblin looked a little stunned for a moment before shaking it off and telling him in a much less clipped tone, "Adkor."

Harry nodded, "Mister Adkor. I don't actually, er," he gestured at the bowl and knife, "well, know what to do here."

Adkor raised a sparse long-haired eyebrow at the title and smirked a little at the boy, "Prick your finger with the blade and let eleven drops fall into the bowl. I will take care of the rest."

Harry nodded and scooted forward on the edge of his seat to grab the hilt of the dagger. He pulled his legs up underneath himself and leaned his scrawny body across the table to reach the bowl. Sticking his tongue between his teeth and furrowing his brow, Harry made a little cut across his index finger, then turned it over to drip into the bowl eleven times. He counted under his breath the entire time, and so missed Voldemort's smirk and Snape's eye-roll to the heavens at the boy's antics.

The last drop fell and Harry scurried back into his seat, still sitting on his legs, and shooting Adkor a wide grin, "There you go, sir!"

The goblin, looking as amused as a goblin could possibly look, slid the copper bowl closer to himself. Adkor grabbed the odd little quill and placed it delicately into the copper bowl before giving both objects a sharp tap with one of his long sharp nails. The metal objects gave a little hum and glowed white softly for a moment before the quill picked itself out of the blood and began to write on the blank parchment. Harry watched the entire process with wide eyes, and his hands closed in tight fists around the open front of his robes.

"Fascinating, isn't it?" Voldemort murmured, watching Harry and flipping his file closed, "I remember coming here to do this myself… Abraxas had convinced me to have it done during the summer before my fifth year."

Harry frowned, his eyes flicking from the still writing quill to Voldemort's nostalgic expression and back. It was a very strange emotion to see on a Dark Lord's face, "Who's Abraxas?"

Snape made another distressed noise and covered his face with both hands behind the Dark Lord, but the man just answered the boy again, ignoring his impertinence completely, "Abraxas Malfoy. I believe you are in the same year as his grandson. If I remember correctly the boy is named after some constellation in the Black tradition."

"Draco, my Lord," Snape put in tiredly, "His mother is Narcissa; a former Black... Bellatrix's sister."

"Ah, yes. That's it," the Dark Lord replied absently, running a finger over his lips in thought, "A bit stuffy, but she somehow managed to escape the Black madness from what I hear...?"

Snape shrugged noncommittally, as the quill stopped writing and lay itself down beside the copper bowl. Adkor plucked the parchment from the table and squinted at it curiously. He coughed once, his eyes widening minutely, and then looked up at Voldemort with a shrewd glare, "Did you, perhaps, blood adopt the boy, Lord?"

Voldemort scowled and shook his head as if he'd been sprayed with cold water, " _What_?"

"You _are_ both Lord Gaunt and Lord Slytherin?" Adkor asked, raising an eyebrow and sneering a bit.

" _Yes_ ," the Dark Lord snarled, "What of it?"

"The boy is listed as the second in line for both those titles," the goblin smirked. Voldemort paled slightly as he took a sharp breath in.

" _What_?" Snape asked this time, voice slightly strangled.

The goblin shrugged, "He's the Prince heir as well, confirming him as your son," he gestured absently at the Potions Master "We'll have to revoke the key for the Potter vaults-"

" _How_ is he listed as the second in line?" Voldemort interrupted with a near frantic growl, "I _have_ no children! Who is the heir?!"

"We can do a family tree for the boy and find out," Adkor suggested slyly, "Only a few more galleons and a bit more bleeding."

Harry scowled and reached for the blade and bowl again before anyone could commit him to this without his say. As he pricked his finger again he saw Voldemort nod from the corner of his eye and snorted derisively. As if there was any doubt. Though to tell the truth he was rather curious himself.

"Fourteen drops this time," Adkor told him, and Harry counted out each under his breath again to the mild amusement of the creature.

When he finished, Harry pushed the little copper bowl over to the goblin and shoved his dripping finger into his mouth with a grimace. Despite the circumstances, Snape still found it within himself to glare disapprovingly at the boy from the other side of the bewildered and quite frankly sick looking Dark Lord. Adkor lay out a clean parchment and tapped both artifacts in a series of musical dings, then they hummed again and the stubby silver quill started writing out a quick little list much faster than the original document. As soon as it was done writing, the goblin snatched it up before Voldemort or Snape could reach it. Not that it didn't stop them from trying.

He scowled at them and then looked at the little family tree. A slow, predatory smile spread out on Adkor's face before he peeked up over the parchment, "Well, _well_ …"

"Well, _what_?!" Voldemort hissed, hands clenching around the arm rests of his chair.

"Congratulations, Heir Gaunt, Heir Slytherin," The goblin smirked, holding the parchment out to Snape. The Potions Master blanched nearly the same color as the parchment and made no move to take the note from Adkor. Voldemort snatched the slip of parchment and then stared at it with an eerily blank expression.

Harry, unable to dampen his curiosity, sat up on his knees a little further and looked over the Dark Lord's broad shoulder. Over his own name was Lily Potter nee Evans and Severus Tobias Snape, connected to him by a thin crimson line that was slowly drying to a rusty brown. Above his mother's name were her parents; Rose and Harold Evans. Harry smiled at the names. Maybe she named him after his maternal grandfather. That was a nice thought.

His eyes scanned over to the names connected to Snape's. Eileen Snape nee Prince, and Tom Marvolo Riddle, Jr.. Underneath his paternal grandfather's name were two words in parentheses - _Lord Voldemort_.

Harry's stomach felt like it sank through the floor, even as he filed the name "Tom" in the back of his mind for later use. He looked up at the older wizards. Both seemed to be in shock, and Harry couldn't help the hysterical giggle that bubbled up from his throat. Both whipped their heads up to glare at him, which only made the boy laugh harder.

" _What_ is so funny?" Snape growled through clenched teeth.

The boy gasped for air, wiping tears from the corners of his eyes as he answered breathlessly, "This family is _so_ fucked up. What kind of family tradition _is_ this?"

"Language," the Potions Master warned, but the corner of his mouth twitched up for a split second before moving directly into a scowl and then a wary look at the Dark Lord, who was still sitting very very still.

"When she left me for that _dirty muggle_ …" Voldemort mumbled tonelessly under his breath, "I didn't even bother to keep up with her after some time because... and then when Lucius- When he brought you to me as a potential recruit. I never even suspected that… you looked so much like her, how would I even begin to guess..." His head shot up suddenly, and crimson eyes narrowed on Snape's cautious expression, "Are you a Parselmouth?"

"I…" Snape swallowed loudly, "I have never made an attempt, or have spent any great amount of time with a snake to see if I could understand it. It never even crossed my mind as possible."

Harry perked up at the question, "You mean like talking to snakes? I can do that!" Both older wizards' heads swiveled to look at the boy again, making him shrink back in his chair a bit at the intensity of their combined scrutiny, "Er… sorry…"

"We'll come back to you," Voldemort frowned, turning his scorching gaze back to Snape grumbling under his breath again, "How you can _not_ know and be surrounded by snake imagery at that school constantly, I'll never know...~ _Can you understand what I'm saying right now_ ~?"

Snape frowned and raised an eyebrow sarcastically, "Of course. You were speaking plain English at a reasonable volume."

The Dark Lord sighed and sat back in his seat heavily, long fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, "That wasn't English…"

Snape's brow furrowed and he glanced at the goblin, who nodded bemusedly and told him in a oddly cheerful tone, "Sounded like a tea kettle."

Harry giggled hysterically in the background at the description, before choking out, "Oh god, what do I call you both, now? I can't keep calling my father, ' _Snape_ ', and my grandfather ' _my Lord_ '. Is your last name even _actually_ Snape? Is _mine_? This is bloody ridiculous. Is there a family curse or something?"

Neither older wizard bothered to reprimand him this time, instead turning thoughtful frowns at the boy who had obviously learned entirely to much in the past twenty-four hours.


	5. Family Meals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Early post. I ended up breaking up a longer chapter, but I think it works better.
> 
> Enjoy the awkward almost bonding, Severus basically acting like a rebellious impulsive teenager, and allusions to possible mind alterations made on him without his knowledge.
> 
> Not Beta-d

The trio of black haired wizards returned to the manor almost half an hour later. The sheer amount of paperwork involved in untangling the matriarchal subterfuge between them all was something Harry never wanted to experience again. They still had not figured out the name situation either. Harry thought the other two probably didn't care enough to bother with it, but he was curious and determined to figure it out regardless of adult help later.

They stepped out of the fireplace and into the entryway, all of them brushing soot from their robes when Voldemort decided to finally address Snape directly. He was purposefully focusing on dusting himself off as he drawled, "You realize, of course, that this does not change anything in regards to your punishments?"

Snape's black eyes narrowed into a glare that slid up and down the Dark Lord with a sense of barely checked fury.

"No. Of course not," he sneered, "Merlin forbid anyone accuse  _you_  of nepotism."

Voldemort clenched his teeth, grinding them slightly. Harry thought it kind of funny that he used the same quiet silky voice Snape used when someone exploded a cauldron in class as he asked, " _Pardon_?"

Luckily Harry's stomach came to the rescue before the two could tear each other apart with an embarrassingly loud growl. The boy smiled nervously at the furious dark wizards as they both turned slowly to look at him. His face felt incredibly hot.

"I, uhm… It's lunch time," Harry said unnecessarily.

"Quite," Voldemort snapped, "Come along. We'll all eat in the dining room."

The Dark Lord turned on his heel and headed off through the right archway. Harry quickly followed after him, aware of Snape walking slightly slower behind him. Most likely to try and get himself back under control before they were all seated in the same room again.

The dining room Voldemort took them too was a bit smaller than Harry would have guessed. It seemed like this room was specifically for the family of the manor when they didn't have guests to entertain. The idea tickled him a bit, and Harry found himself smothering a smirk from behind his hand. Family indeed.

The Dark Lord sat at the head of the table. Snape pulled out in front of Harry to take the seat to the man's left, and then pointed sharply to the chair next to his. Harry sat where he pointed, not wanting to make more instances for confrontation than there already were. He was used to this kind of family dynamic at least.

As the boy sat down a house elf popped in with a selection of sandwiches and a tureen of vegetable soup. They all served themselves in silence. Somehow, Snape and Voldemort managed to eat while making hardly any noise at all. Harry, on the other hand, devoured his food loud enough in comparison to make his ears burn with embarrassment as the older wizards shot him increasingly more irritated glares. After a few minutes of that he attempted to copy whatever it was Snape was doing. It was slow going, but the glares stopped.

The meal was drawing to a close when Snape pushed his plate and bowl away and turned his glittering black eyes on the Dark Lord. His face was emotionless, but his voice was rough with suppressed anger, "Did you love her?"

Voldemort froze, spoon halfway back to his bowl. He frowned and finished setting down his utensil before answering in an oddly subdued tone, "...as much as  _I_  ever could love someone. I cared for her. She's the only reason you hadn't died at my hand earlier... Thankfully."

"Did you?" Harry blurted out at Snape from around the last bite of his sandwich before they could continue. He swallowed the food down and narrowed his eyes a bit, "Love  _my_  mum, I mean."

Snape frowned and sat back a little in his chair, "Always. Only ever her."

Harry gave them both a sarcastic grin, "Merlin. You two make me hope I never fall in love."

Snape's frown deepened, but Voldemort responded with a derisive snort and a nod, "Good. It's nothing but self-flagellation."

"What's that? Torture?" Harry chirped, pushing his own bowl away.

Snape rolled his eyes and sighed, "Yes, essentially."

"The both of you should return to Harry's rooms and begin lessons," the Dark Lord ordered, standing from his chair, "I have work to do, and neither of you should stay idle in the meantime. You will be brewing for me tomorrow, Severus. We will need many things for the return of my most faithful."

Voldemort swept from the room in a flurry of black robes without waiting for acknowledgement. Snape glared at the doorway for a few minutes before standing with a sigh and motioning for Harry to follow him. They took the ever more familiar route to Harry's rooms in silence. The boy used the time to wonder on how bizarre the entire situation still felt, shuddering more than once as he attempted to push out reminders of his newly realized paternal grandfather. He'd be lucky if Ron and Hermione wanted to stay his friends after they found out.

When they made it to the door, Harry opened it up to let Snape inside nervously. The man sat in the chair by the desk, and Harry decided to take a seat on his bed.

"I…" Snape started, and then cleared his throat. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, "I owe you an apology. I am truly sorry, Harry."

Harry shook his head, a little nervous chuckle escaping him, "Er, for what?"

"I did not… treat you well this year," Snape frowned, "While I may have needed to hold you at arm's length in necessity for my spying position, I needn't have been quite so…"

"Cruel? Terrible?  _Rotten_?" Harry asked, eyebrow raising a bit. He couldn't help but feel a little disbelief that Snape was even apologizing to him, but that didn't mean he was going to make it easy on the man anyway. Father or no. He may not have been totally unbearable, but he had not made the year any easier.

"Yes, well…" Snape shifted uncomfortably, "I was going to say harsh, but… those all might fit better."

Harry nodded, a little smile creeping onto his face despite himself upon seeing the normally stoic man's nervousness, "Yeah, well… It's done with now. You could've been worse, and you're apologizing for it now. Even if I don't believe for a second you'd care if you weren't my… Father. Speaking of, most of your insults did focus on inheriting bad traits from my father, so every time you said anything negative about James you were actually talking about yourself, and that's pretty funny to think about."

"And ultimately true, I suppose…" Snape mumbled under his breath before commenting louder, "You're taking all of this fairly well for an uprooted eleven year old. I can't say I'm handling it better than you, in fact."

"I didn't even know my parent's names before Hagrid came to get me for Hogwarts, so it isn't too big of an… er,  _uprooting_ " Harry shrugged, "This is all really crazy, but as long as no one is trying to kill me… I have my own room here, and I get to eat regularly, and don't have to do endless amounts of chores. Not to mention that apparently the family here feels guilty if they treat me badly. Well... Okay. You do, I guess. There's no telling with, er… my grandfather. He doesn't seem like the type to feel bad about much of anything."

Harry's face screwed up a little thinking about the detached way Voldemort was acting around them both. The man didn't seem like the type to care much about family. Maybe he just wasn't used to the idea yet, either. It was a shock after all. Snape frowned. The Potions Master sat up straight and moved his elbows to the arms of the chair.

"Yes… About that. I don't know what made you decide to sign your life over to the man," Snape turned a stern look at the boy that promised they'd be speaking about that later, "but you really ought to watch your mouth around him… He may seem less unstable than he used to be at the moment, but I still don't trust him not to curse you if you push him, Pot-... Harry. He isn't… a regular grandfather."

Harry shrugged again and started picking at the hem of his robe, "Yeah, well, I've never had a grandfather to begin with, let alone a regular one, so that's a bit of a non-issue, I suppose," he looked up at Snape through his fringe, "Will  _you_  watch your mouth around him? You've been pushing him on purpose. I can tell."

The Potions Master closed his eyes and sighed heavily, "...I think I'd rather be cursed now that it's all out in the open, to be honest."

Harry snorted, and Snape opened his eyes to look at the boy questioningly. Harry gave another little shrug and smirked at the man.

"Then you understand why I can't agree to that."

" _Harry_ ," Snape warned, "I will attack the man if he attacks you, and I'm not  _entirely_  certain that wouldn't activate the immediate death clause of my contract."

Harry muffled a snicker behind his hand, "Merlin, that'd be an even bigger mess. Can you  _imagine_?"

" _Harry_!" Snape growled lowly, "It is  _not_  a joke."

"Sorry. Gotta find the joke somewhere in this mess or I'll lose it," Harry grinned at the man, "So. What am I supposed to call you? Neither of you answered me earlier."

"I will… take whatever you are willing to give me within reason," the Potions Master rumbled quietly, "I am aware it will take some time for any of us to get used to this turn of events. I do not expect familiarity that has never been there before. As for the Dark Lord, that is even more your choice. I do not and  _will not_  require you to call the man that killed your mother and tried to kill you, 'Grandfather' or any variation of the word."

Harry bit his bottom lip thoughtfully, mulling over the idea of the dour man taking over a role that had always been empty in his life. It did seem as though he was serious about trying to do so. The surprise of the apology stuck out. Harry never would've thought the man capable of apologizing for  _anything_. He looked up to take in Snape waiting patiently and frowned.

"If… If I give you a proper chance, and we start over…" Harry swallowed nervously, wondering if this was the right choice or not, "What if I call you 'Father'?"

Snape blinked and leaned forward again, eyes narrowed thoughtfully, "Father?"

Harry shrugged, trying to ignore the pinching nervousness in his gut, "Yeah, well. If you're  _really_  going to try… It's not too…  _close_ , or whatever. Is it?"

"No," Snape- his father, conceded with a unreadable look, "Not too familiar. You're right. It just sounded a bit more formal than I'm used to you speaking... Thank you, Harry. I will do my best with this second chance you are offering me. On that note… We should begin these 'lessons' the Dark Lord wants you to do."

* * *

Harry and Severus spent almost two hours working on the finer points of polite greetings and proper everyday seating arrangements before Severus called an end to the brain melting drivel (much to their mutual relief) and retired to his own rooms a door down to read through some research papers before dinner. Or at least, that was what he told his son he was going to do.

Severus ended up spending the rest of his time before dinner pacing in front of his bed and sorting through his every memory of the Dark Lord. He had joined shortly after graduating his seventh year, and spent the following two years amassing a greater knowledge of potions and attempting to gain the man's favor in a bid to impress him. Of course, he had been young then and hadn't realized just how capricious the Dark Lord's favor was. By the time he had figured it out Voldemort had become increasingly less mentally stable... and then the prophecy had been made.

Severus frowned and slowed his pacing. The prophecy. That memory stuck out in his mind so sharply even now, twelve years later… almost  _unnaturally_  so…

_Pop_!

Severus jerked back, pulling his wand from its holster and whipping it around to point at the… little... house elf. He sneered to cover up his embarrassment and slowly slid his wand back into place.

"What is it?" He snapped at the wrinkly doe-eyed creature.

"Master is being requesting yous and Young Master in the dining hall for dinner," the elf squeaked, wringing it's grey pillowcase nervously.

"Tell him we will arrive shortly," Severus ordered. The elf nodded,  _popping_  away again, and Severus wasted no time in making his way to Harry's rooms. At the door he stopped and rapped sharply two times against the wood, "Harry?"

A thud sounded from inside, followed by a " _omph_!" and then the sounds of a preteen boy scurrying to hide something.

"Just a minute!" the boy called breathlessly. Severus shook his head in amusement and waited patiently. Not two minutes later the door opened a crack and Harry slid out into the hall, cheeks red and breathing heavily, "Yes, father?"

Severus heart twisted in his chest like it did every time the child had called him that so far. He doubted he'd ever get used to hearing it directed at his person. The Potions Master raised an eyebrow and made a show of taking Harry's appearance in, "Doing something you shouldn't be?"

Harry graced him with a wide grin that reminded Severus of Lily, "Probably."

Cheeky brat.

Severus shook his head and sighed softly. The boy was going to be the death of him. Likely in the most literal way possible. Spinning on his heel, he ordered over his shoulder, "Come. It's time for dinner."

It didn't take long for them to arrive back in the dining hall, where the Dark Lord had already seated himself at the head of the table. Severus took his seat to the left, and watched Harry bump into the table as he attempted to slide in-between it and his own chair. The boy flushed crimson and mumbled a quiet apology under his breath. Both older wizards politely ignored the fumble and focused on the food they had been served.

"Lessons went well?" Voldemort asked in a tone that bordered on preoccupied as he went directly for the goblet of wine by his plate.

"'Suppose so," Harry mumbled around a mouthful of food before Severus could reply, "Is it all so boring?"

Severus grimaced and reached over to tap the boys chin, "Don't speak with your mouth full. Have you no table manners at all?"

Harry scowled and swallowed more dramatically than necessary before he answered, "The Dursley's didn't let me eat with them at the table. I've only had this year to figure it out. I tried to copy 'Mione in the beginning, but she doesn't eat much when Ron does... So I always made sure to sit next to him, since he's worse than me somehow, so no one really noticed my bad manners next to him."

"...that  _will_  be remedied," Voldemort informed them both, with a sharp look at Severus. As if he wouldn't teach his son something like this!  _Damn_  those muggles. He was going to have to find out where Petunia was living now after his "Grounding" had been dealt with.

"Are you sure you were meant to be in Gryffindor?" Severus asked the boy wryly. He expected Harry to take the remark as either a joke or a playful jab. Instead, the child shrugged, and pushed the food on his plate around.

"Not really. I guess the hat thought I was brave enough to make it work, but it really wanted me in Slytherin," Harry frowned and speared a small roasted potato with his fork, "Said I'd be great there and all. Guess that makes sense now."

Severus glanced at the Dark Lord, both of them making eye contact over the information before Voldemort queried in a grave tone, "And why didn't it put you there, pray tell?"

Harry grinned, and cocked his head to the side in a manner that was a bit playful, "Wouldn't have been a good idea, would it? I had already been told more than once that Slytherins were 'bad, dark witches and wizards'. As if anyone, even the Headmaster, would've trusted me then. Besides that, I had already made friends with people sorted into Gryffindor and I really wanted to stay as far away from Malfoy as possible."

"I'm not sure whether that is brilliant or not," Severus raised his brows appreciatively.

"Lazy, I think," Voldemort drawled from Severus' side. He resisted the urge to snap at the man, but couldn't keep from scowling as he looked back.

" _Lazy_?" Severus asked, "How so?"

The Dark Lord took a sip of his wine, and then stared at the goblet in his long pale hand, "Dumbledore never trusted  _me_  and I came out the better for it. Not to mention one must learn to work with people they don't necessarily like in life to reach a certain goal often. Adversity breeds power, Harry."

Harry snorted and smiled around the potato he'd put in his mouth while Voldemort had been speaking. Blessedly, he swallowed before replying, "Well, yeah, but it could've worked out better for you politically if you'd been able to gain the Headmaster's trust. If you hadn't had to fight him tooth and nail for every law you tried to get passed you might've gotten through some of the better ones. We all know he blocked even the ones he agreed with if they came from you, because he assumed every thing you tried to pass was for some sort of evil.  _Furthermore_ , isn't Dumbledore technically someone  _you_  'don't necessarily like'?"

Severus stared at the boy for a bewildered moment before looking back at Voldemort. The Dark Lord was gripping his wine goblet with white knuckles, and gazing at Harry as if he'd never seen him before. Severus couldn't blame him in this instance. He hadn't known the boy knew anything at all about Voldemort's rise or anything the man had tried to do before it. Severus smirked at the older man, and raised his own wine goblet toward the boy.

"Brilliance it is then," He chuckled darkly before taking a sip.

"You are  _both_  much too loose with your tongues," Voldemort hissed, taking another sip himself.

"On the subject," Severus drawled, placing his goblet back down and turning his body to angle toward the Dark Lord, "What exactly are you wanting me to do about Dumbledore? The tasks and stipulations you have set for me make it very difficult to maintain my position, and staying here so long without communication will be looked on with suspicion unless I give some fairly large piece of information."

The Dark Lord sneered and turned a pointed crimson stare on the Potions Master that made his skin crawl uncomfortably, "Very poor try, Severus. You will give that man nothing more. As far as I'm concerned your spying days are over. I will not allow you to go back to betray me when the old man manipulates you into giving him my plans. Believe it or not... I  _do_  prefer you alive."

Severus glowered and clenched his fists under the table in frustration. The limits of the new contract and dull burn of the Mark on his left forearm telling him that any effort he made to go against the decision would be most painful and likely to end in death.

"So we... we can't go back to Hogwarts?" Harry asked almost pleadingly. He bit at his bottom lip and flipped his fork around in his hand distractedly.

Voldemort set his mouth in a grim line and shook his head in the negative, "No. Not yet, anyway. I will not lose either of you so soon. Or ever, come to that. You are both mine now, and I take care of what is mine."

Severus resisted the urge to shudder and instead took another sip of wine in an attempt to stay silent and not say anything he'd regret.

"You're either the best grandfather or the absolute worst ever, and it's getting increasingly hard to tell which," The boy mused petulantly.

Severus choked on his wine and coughed into his elbow. After a moment he pulled himself together and glared accusingly at Harry, "He  _killed_  your  _mother_!"

Harry frowned and tapped at his chin with an index finger thoughtfully, "Right..."

Voldemort's face shuttered, and his eyes darkened. The conversations blackened his mood unlike Severus had ever seen. It was almost as if the man were truly upset at the reminder. His mind said such a thing was not possible, but the increased burn in his Mark said otherwise. The Dark Lord pushed back his chair and stood, "Shut up... both of you. Finish and go to bed."


	6. Grandfather's Dilemma

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter on FF. The updates will happen at the same time now. :)

When Tom left the dining room he immediately stalked ( _not fled! Dark Lords do not flee!_ ) to the sanctity of his office. Since they had returned home from the bank earlier that day he had been suppressing as much thought on the subject of his hidden family as he could get away with while working. Dinner, however, brought all of those thoughts bubbling to the surface.

The only reasons he had let Severus remain alive after the interrogation with Veritaserum were that finding a potioneer of the man's caliber in such a short amount of time would be disastrous at best, and due to his ongoing (and frankly embarrassing) fondness for Eileen. Yes,  _fondness_. Love would be too exaggerated a word, surely. After all, it isn't as if he had done anything to keep her or get her back when she ran off with that muggle man. Even if he had been positively furious. Definitely not hurt, though. Well... maybe a little hurt, he could admit in the secrecy of his own mind. But that wasn't  _love,_  was it? He had kept an eye on her as well as he could early on, of course. Tom had even attempted to send her money when he knew she was struggling with the drunken bum not working. Though she'd always sent it back untouched... That was fondness. Not love.  _Right..._?

Tom sighed heavily as he sank into his soft leather office chair. It didn't matter. By the time Severus had been seven he had lost track of her under his increasing madness and the urgency he felt to make the changes he campaigned for in the Wizarding World. That had been when the cause started to become more… revolutionary. Eileen had died before Severus had even been brought to him by a young Lucius Malfoy. Killed at the hands of the muggle man she'd run off with. Young Severus had joined looking for vengeance and protection from the man. How could Tom refuse such a thing?

When Tom had seen Severus for the first time as a youth he knew exactly who his mother was. There was so much of Eileen Prince in him. The eye shape, the thin lips, thick but lank dark hair, and the gaunt length of his face. The boy even inherited the Prince nose, though it had been unfortunately and very obviously broken a few times. Tom had doted on the boy in comparison to the other Death Eaters that joined with him, though he'd never admit to that and definitely refused to let Severus realize such a thing. He'd even paid for the boy to get his Mastery under the guise of needing a Potions Master! Severus had been exceptionally driven and more intelligent than his peers. He had a background that Tom could empathize with, unlike the purebloods that generally joined. Tom had seen the boy as an extension of Eileen almost immediately, and most often ignored the parts of Severus that hadn't been in her image to avoid the simmer of some negative emotion he refused to acknowledge. Not betrayal. Not jealousy. That was unthinkable. He hadn't  _loved_  the woman after all.

Now that Tom knew that that muggle wasn't part of him, however… Tom  _could_  look. He could see that Severus had inherited the sharp angles of Tom's face. The cold dark brown, almost-black eyes Tom had in his youth. Severus had Tom's hands, the length of his limbs, and the set of his brow. Further still, Severus had inherited the same vicious, powerful magic that Tom did. Eileen had given him a powerful heir.

Some of those features had even been passed down to Harry. His  _own_   _grandson_.

The Dark Lord shivered as something warm and full, like pride ran through him.

It turned cold quickly.

After all, Severus had still turned from him; the cause of that turn had been long dead by Tom's hand. A fact that made any reconciliation unlikely. Currently Tom had a better chance of settling differences with his grandson, whom he had attempted to murder more than once than he did his son.

Yes… the death of Lily Potter was a black mark on the potential of their family.

What a phrase that was.  _Their family_. As an orphan in Wool's, Tom had desperately wanted such a thing. He had pieced together one made of his Knights and later the Death Eaters, but to have one that belonged to him and  _only_  him...

Perhaps there was something that could be done. There were a few texts on his shelves that might help with the endeavor.

Tom stood from his comfortable chair and began picking through his books lining the wall. A few weathered old tomes with no subject or author spelled out on their spines or covers were snatched up, leafed through, and placed on the corner of his desk. Quite a bit more scrolls held together almost entirely by preservation charms followed them. There had to be something in his ancient soul magic texts to fix this. Or perhaps the necromantic grimoires he'd gathered from Salazar's Chamber in his youth...

The texts piled up, covering every free surface of his desk. When Tom finally returned to his seat he had to place a good number of them into a magically expanded desk drawer for later perusal in order to have the space to take notes. Perhaps if this worked as he theorized he could use the method more than once... Tom really would like to see Eileen again. Surely he could fix their relationship if he could bring Severus around?

It wasn't much later that Quirrell knocked on the door of his office.

"M-my Lord?" The man inquired hesitantly, voice muffled slightly by the wood of the door.

"What is it, Quirrell?" the Dark Lord snarled. The door opened slowly before admitting the pale twitchy man. Voldemort looked up from the book he'd buried himself in and raised an impatient eyebrow, " _Well_? Out with it!"

"T-the Dementor Lord has arrived, my Lord," Quirrell shuddered reflexively. The Dark Lord furrowed his brow and swiveled around in his seat to yank back thick green curtains that hid the window. The sun had finished going down, and the night sky was black as pitch. Voldemort smirked ferally.

"Tell an elf to take him and his guards to the Meeting Hall. I will be down quickly," The Dark Lord ordered. He grabbed his robe from the back of the chair and slid it on as Quirrell shot from the room to do as bid. Voldemort spared a moment to mark pages and shut his research into one of his desk drawers, activating the locks on them with the password. He frowned at the closed drawer and narrowed his eyes. The password was just the parseltongue for "open". Tom would need to remember to change it to something less obvious with two other parselmouths in the manor. This needed to be a surprise after all, and Tom was well aware of his family's inability to keep from snooping where they shouldn't. His son was-  _had been_  a bloody  _spy_ , afterall, and his grandson somehow figured out about the Philosopher's Stone  _in his first year._ This was the problem with intelligent and willful progeny.

Voldemort made a note to himself to change his passwords before he went to sleep tonight and swept from the room to meet the Dementor Lord.

* * *

The promise of a multitude of fresh souls, free reign in heavily muggle-populated areas, and an ally against the oppressive Ministry brought the Dementor Lord firmly to Voldemort's side. Plans to retrieve his followers from Azkaban had been set into motion with the confirmation of the Dementors help. The Dark Lord couldn't keep the smirk off his face as he personally led the Dementor Lord and his guards out of the manor. It didn't falter even a centimeter as he stalked back to his office in a flurry of billowing black robes.

Everything was going exactly to plan, and victory was imminent.

That was until Tom opened his office door to see Severus sitting patiently in front of his desk. He frowned at his son as their eyes met. Severus' gaze narrowed, and he shifted his seat to turn his back away from Tom in obvious distrust. The gesture made Tom scowl.

"Aren't you supposed to be in bed?" Tom asked, breaking the eye contact and sweeping around his desk to return to his office chair.

"You  _do_  realize that I'm thirty-two years old as of January, correct?" Severus sneered and leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, "I am no longer at an age to be given a 'bedtime'. I have not been for more than a  _decade_."

Tom sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He probably ought to concede a few inconsequential things to the man if he wanted their relationship to improve any at all, "I suppose that is so... What is it you want?"

"The truth. For once," Severus glowered. Irritation prickled under Tom's skin.  _Insolent whelp!_

"The truth…" Tom steepled his hands on the smooth wood of his desk and leaned forward with a menacing hiss, "Like the ' _truth'_  you told me when you volunteered to spy on the old man?"

"You have  _no_ right!" Severus snarled, standing up so quickly the chair he'd been sitting on toppled over. His face was flushed with indignant fury, "You had long since crossed the line into madness! You targeted an  _infant_! And for  _what_?! A self-fulfilling prophecy?!"

Tom repressed a cringe at the reminder of his mental state at the time, covering the emotion with his own outrage, "You still betrayed me! Hoped for my death!  _My own son_!"

Severus growled lowly. He jerked violently forward the single step to Tom's desk and leaned heavily on the surface with white knuckled fists. Tom did not like how the younger man was looming over him and stood himself, bringing them face to face. The air felt thick with churning, furious magic.

"Neither of us knew that then," Severus grit from behind clenched teeth, "Even so, I would not stand by idly while you  _murdered_  the one I love, blood or no!"

Tom's face relaxed into another frown. He sat back down slowly, watching Severus pant heavily and try to wrestle back control of his anger. The crimson of the man's emotional flush ebbed to a dull pink as he took a deep inward breath in an obvious attempt to reinstate Occlumency walls.

"I  _will_  fix this, Severus," Tom told his son firmly.

"You  _cannot_ ," Severus insisted in a breathy, strangled voice, "You took her from me. You took your grandson's  _mother_  from him. You left him to live as an orphan for  _your own pride_ and fear! If you had not forced me here by threatening my life and withholding my son I would not  _choose_  to stand beside you."

With that, Severus turned on his heel and left the office, robes billowing angrily behind him. The door slammed in his wake. Tom sighed and relaxed into his chair. This was going to take more work than he had originally thought…

Tom pulled open his desk drawer and began removing his research determinedly. He  _would_  fix this. Failure was not an option. Tom had an eternity to make it work, after all... and so would Severus and Harry once he started dosing their drinks with the elixir from the Philosopher's Stone. His family could be nothing less than eternal. They  _would not_  leave him like his mother and father had.


	7. The Great Immortality Debacle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom tries to be sneaky, but doesn't care when it fails.  
> Severus is frustrated continuously by everyone.  
> Harry finds a new interest.

Slipping the Philosopher's Stone elixir into his family's tea sounded easy enough in theory. Especially since it didn't seem to have much of a taste. In fact, it didn't at all. Tom had forgotten, however, that a Potions Master might possibly check for things like bloody consistency in his drinks. Probably because that seemed a little paranoid for regular people, even to him.

The next day at breakfast when Tom implemented his "Eternal Family Plan", he was forcibly acquainted with just how paranoid his son was. Apparently, he'd inherited it from his father.

"What…" Severus breathed out with a shudder, "What the bloody hell is in this fucking tea?"

"How did you…" Tom started, trailing off as he looked up from his eggs. Severus had his index finger above his tea cup, dripping with the slightly syrupy liquid. Tom scowled, "Of course… Don't worry about it. Just a supplement to… keep you alive."

Harry blanched and squeaked from behind Severus, his own tea half consumed. Severus' eyes narrowed and his teeth clenched angrily.

"That is  _not_  reassuring!" Severus growled.

Tom shrugged nonchalantly and went back to his eggs, "Yes, well. I  _did_  say that I refuse to lose you."

Silence reigned for a few minutes. Tom took a sip of his own elixir laced tea and raised a eyebrow at the twin horrified expressions on his son and grandson's faces.

"...Did… did you put the Stone's elixir in this tea…?" Severus asked breathily, face morphing into incredulousness.

Tom raised his cup in a mock toast and took another sip, retaining eye contact the entire time. Severus turned paler than normal.

"Wait… does that mean I'm immortal now?" Harry put in, leaning on the table to get Tom's attention. Tom shrugged, and the boy grinned cheekily, "Okay. Today you're the best grandfather ever."

Severus choked and jerked around to stare at the boy in disbelief. Harry shrugged and sat back in his seat, content to continue eating now that he knew he wasn't being poisoned.

"You can't just make people immortal without their consent!" Severus growled, turning back around to fix Tom with an angry glower.

"And why not?" Tom asked, picking up the Daily Prophet from beside his plate. He flicked it open and waved a hand dismissively, "I wish someone had taken the initiative for me. If someone had done it to me without  _my_  consent it would've saved me years of work, and likely a bit of mental stability… More than a bit, actually."

Tom frowned and stared at the far wall thoughtfully. He really ought to have attempted getting the Stone before splitting his soul like he had. Or any other method of immortality, really. Shrugging at seemingly nothing, he turned back to his paper. Oh, well. Nothing to do about it now.

"What do you mean, ' _why not_ '?!" Severus exclaimed, slamming an open palm on the dining table and causing the things atop it to jingle as they shook, "That is a  _complete_  breach of our person!"

Tom frowned over the top of his paper, "I think you've forgotten the bit where I am a Dark Lord, Severus. I know I've been letting you get away with less cursing and hexing than normal, but the fact still remains. If need be I can go back to punishing you instead of letting you get away with so much insubordination."

Harry giggled a little hysterically and patted Severus' hand, "He's right. Just drink the tea, Father. I'd like you to be around as long as I am, anyway."

Severus frowned disapprovingly at the boy, but no more was said on the subject. Tom made a note to find a way to reward Harry for his deflection somehow. Maybe a new broom or something. Lucius probably knew what kids these days liked, what with his own spawn and all. He'd have to ask him.

* * *

After breakfast Severus was told to follow his father to his new work place. He did so grumbling under his breath the entire way. Pulling the "Dark Lord" card in the middle of an argument was hardly fair. If the man would attempt to defend his position with logic instead of just a callous disregard for Severus' person and emotions, maybe he could keep his anger under control long enough to actually make headway.

Quite some time later and two floors under the main level, the two wizards came to a stop in front of a monstrously large wooden door at the end of a short hallway. The Dark Lord turned back to Severus and eyed him suspiciously. Severus glowered back.

"This is your lab," Voldemort informed him, "You own it. If you need anything restocked you may send out for it by summoning a house elf and I will cover the charge. You are not to make anything to harm me or anyone under my protection. The contract will read that as disloyalty. For now I need you to brew everything you may need to help nurse the imprisoned back to health. Do not leave anything out you may think of. The Mark will punish you for it. Understood?"

Severus growled lowly and gave a sharp nod.

The Dark Lord gave a grim smile and waved a hand at the gigantic door. It swung open on rusted hinges, squeaking loudly and banging against the damp stone walls. Severus followed the man inside the lab, shoving down his automatic response of awe. The lab was huge, possibly half the size of the manor. There were walls and walls of shelves filled with every ingredient one could imagine. If Severus didn't hate the man so much he might have even felt grateful for such a beautiful space to call his own.

Something the man said earlier jumped to the forefront of his mind, and Severus frowned, stopping to stare at the back of Voldemort's head.

"Why would you feed me the Stone's elixir against my will with the contract active?" He asked without preamble.

The Dark Lord stopped and turned to face him slowly, gaze calculating, "Perhaps I am overly optimistic."

Severus snorted derisively at that answer, "You are many things, but optimistic is not one. What is your game, old man?"

Voldemort glared, face set in irritation. Severus' Mark burned lightly to let him know the emotion was true, and he felt his brow furrow in confusion.

"I am  _not_  old," huffed the sixty-five year old Dark Lord, "And I meant what I said, Severus. If all goes to plan I'd like to be able to trust you without the contract one day. The Mark may even be removed... I hate to have my heir on the same level as my vassals. It hardly seems right."

A frown formed on Severus' face with out his permission before he attempted to clear his expression into one of neutrality, "Perhaps you  _are_  optimistic."

The Dark Lord chose to ignore that comment. The man swept from the lab without another word, leaving Severus to his potions. A situation that suited the dour man just fine. He couldn't help but wonder and worry about what Harry was up to as he worked. The child was a bit of a menace without even trying. He did hope his son managed to stay out of trouble for the day. He could hardly concentrate with thoughts of what kind of danger the boy could be getting up to without a supervisor. Or with one if it happened to be Voldemort watching him.

* * *

If he had known his father was worrying about him in the bowels of the manor, it likely would not have changed Harry's decision in the slightest.

After the older wizards had left, the boy gave them a ten minute head start before taking off to explore the rest of the building. He had already been in the place for three days and Harry had only seen four rooms and a great many hallways. All of this adult stuff had been all well and good, but now it was time to plot out his new habitat.

On the ground floor Harry found the meeting hall, two sitting rooms, an incredibly large library he was sure would cause Hermione to faint outright, and another much larger dining hall. It seemed he was correct about the smaller one being for family only. The next floor up was filled with odd rooms. There was one filled with astronomy equipment, including the largest telescope Harry had ever seen out on a large circular balcony. There was another that was filled with magical plants and had air as humid as the greenhouses at Hogwarts that he found near the end of the hall. One room was decorated with odd metallic instruments that Harry recognized from Dumbledore's office. Based on their surroundings, the boy concluded that it must be set up for alchemy experiments.

 _'Not too odd'_ , he supposed sarcastically, ' _what with my grandfather's current Stone obsession_.'

The room captured his attention though. Harry was curious about the processes of Alchemy despite himself. They didn't have classes for the subject at Hogwarts after all, and this was where such an impossible work as the Philosopher's Stone was created. He could hardly deny interest after such a thought.

Almost by design, Harry found his way to the few shelves of books lining the right wall. He ran his fingers over several large, ancient looking books before stopping on a thin text with a silver script title and deep green cover.

" _An Introduction of Alchemy_  by Nicholas Flamel," he read in a whisper. Almost reverently Harry pulled the book from the shelf. The front cover had the same title and underneath the author's name were a couple symbols he didn't recognize. A circle with a dot inside of it, and an arrow with an odd squiggly line much like the number three drawn across it.

Pocketing the book in his robes, Harry hurried back to his own rooms. Perhaps he could find something interesting to do with it.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Another shorty since I did a two in one day post. ;) Oh yeah. Harry is about to get real serious, ya'll. I'm sure Tom will not disapprove at all. We shall see how Sev reacts.


	8. False Memories and Dinner Table Philosophy

Severus ended up working right through the afternoon meal, creating batch after batch of healing potions for the body and mind. He ate in his lab quickly that afternoon when an elf brought a light lunch down for him. Not that it mattered much since the other two hadn't made it down either.

Harry had been much too enthralled in his borrowed book. The basics of Alchemy were fascinating, and he couldn't seem to tear himself away from the text to go downstairs for another awkward and possibly aggressive family meal. Instead he ate at his desk again while jotting down messy notes on some of his parchment left over from the school year.

The Dark Lord went straight to his office after taking Severus down to work. He needed to finish laying groundwork for the breakout set for that weekend. Tom too, ate in his office, but he sent a house elf to retrieve Severus for dinner about an hour beforehand knowing the man would work through it if he didn't. Curiously, he'd had to do the same to Harry, who the elves informed him had also not appeared from his rooms after breakfast.

The meal was much quieter than their previous ones with Severus running through the last of the potions he needed to make in his head, and the Dark Lord moodily turning over last minute plans for Azkaban in his mind.

Harry decided to use their distraction to his advantage and see about his new book.

"I had a look around this morning…" The boy informed them out of the blue towards the end of the meal, "There's a lot of different kinds of rooms here. I was wondering…"

Tom looked up as Harry trailed off and raised an inquiring eyebrow, "You were wondering?"

"Well. The books. Am I allowed to read them?" Harry asked casually, "You know... If I were to find any that caught my eye or whatever."

Severus turned a probing look on the boy as well, "Are we to assume by that question that a book has indeed caught your eye?"

Harry blushed and fiddled with the edge of the tablecloth under the table, "Uhm… possibly."

"As long as you run it by me or your father first, I don't see why not. In fact, I encourage you to do so," Tom told him as he returned to his meal. Severus frowned at that answer and leaned a little closer to his son.

"What book is it, Harry?" The dour man asked. He didn't seem angry or anything. Just concerned and a little curious. Harry decided to stop beating around the bush. It wasn't as if it were Dark Arts, after all… Though getting in trouble for that might actually be questionable in this family. He'd have to ask later.

" _An Introduction to Alchemy_  by Nicholas Flamel," Harry told his father. Severus frowned thoughtfully. The Dark Lord sat up straight to run a piercing look over his grandson. Harry squirmed under their attention, "What?"

"How far through the book have you made it?" Voldemort asked, setting down his fork.

Harry shrugged and looked out of the corner of his eyes at Severus as he answered, "I have three more chapters left before I finish it."

"Do you understand what you have read so far?" Severus asked neutrally.

Harry bristled at the question. After apologizing the man was still going to insult him? Feeling more than a little irritated, he glared and growled out, " _Yes_. I'm not as much of an idiot as you seem to think."

Severus' eyes widened, and he pushed out from the table a bit to better turn toward his son, "That isn't what I meant. I know you weren't given the chance to do as well as you could have in my classroom this year. I haven't any true understanding of your intelligence level, Harry… I was asking to gauge it. Alchemy is a very complicated subject. I do not think you are an idiot."

Harry frowned, but accepted the information with a hesitant nod and rephrased his response, "Yes. I've understood it so far. I'd like to try a practical though…"

"What are you wanting to try?" The Dark Lord asked with an almost excited look on his face. The expression gave Severus a wary feeling.

"Well, I was thinking of trying to make a golem first, actually…" Harry informed them, looking anywhere but their eyes.

Severus dropped his fork in surprise and jerked back. The silverware clattered to the floor noisily, but the sound didn't cause either older man to look away from the messy haired child. Tom look positively delighted by the admission, and gave his grandson a wicked grin.

"That's it! What a wonderful idea…" He mused, thinking of ways the project might aid in his mission to figure out what to do about the boy's mother and his dear Eileen, "You may, as long as I am around to oversee the process. You will not enter into the traditional process to give them 'life' however. Instead I will allow you to watch as I attempt something more… complicated. You may try the traditional process on the third one."

Harry's brow furrowed. The Dark Lord was an incredibly strange man, "Uhm… odd way to do things, but if you insist…"

"I do," Tom told the boy simply.

"I do not…" Severus started in a voice much too high. He frowned, and swallowed before he tried again in his regular low tone, "I do not know if that is such a good idea."

"Why not?" The Dark Lord demanded.

"Creating a golem is a direct attempt to play at being Divine," Severus told Harry with a worried and disapproving frown, "There were a rash of Alchemists struck down suddenly for such a thing."

"Well," Harry sighed, turning his eyes back onto his mostly empty plate, "That would totally depend on the intent behind making one, wouldn't it? I mean, if I were trying to make one to be, er… Divine, and to hold power over the golem, that'd be one thing. If I'm doing it for the joy of creating something and to watch the golem exist within the life I'd give it, that's different. Kind of like when someone has a kid. Right?"

Severus stared blankly at the boy, trying to decide whether he was being subtle or was simply stating a philosophical point. The longer they remained at the manor, the harder it was becoming for Severus to tell. Part of him almost wished the boy was as much a Gryffindor as he'd originally thought.

"Well thought, Harry," Tom put in quietly. Perhaps the child had a point. Pushing the thought back for later dissection, he nodded at his grandson, "You will learn it if you wish. My rules still stand."

Harry grinned at the man, and Tom felt that pride swell up in his chest again. Severus felt oddly disconnected from the moment, and more than a little worried about the relationship between his father and his son.

* * *

That night Severus dreamt about the night he had heard the Prophecy.

The dream-memory started as he'd remembered it. Severus was sitting in a grimy shadowed corner table at the Hog's Head, attempting to drown some of his misery over losing Lily to Potter a couple of days before and keeping an ear out for any pertinent information to bring the Dark Lord.

Sybill Trelawney soon burst through the doors of the pub, her many patterned scarves stuck down like a wet cat from the storm outside. She spoke loudly about a meeting with the Headmaster to interview for a job. The combination of her loud proclamation and the barman's disinterested point up the stairs convinced Severus to follow after the woman and see if he could learn anything important, as unlikely as that was.

Severus stood outside the door of the private room, listening in the shadows to the interview. At the end, Severus waited for the woman to give the life shattering Prophecy, but it never came. Instead the interview concluded. The Headmaster and Trelawney's chairs screeched against the flooring as they stood to leave, and at that moment, Severus was grabbed around the scruff of his neck by the furious barman.

"Snooping around, aye?" The bearded man growled. The private room's door opened to a surprised Trelawney and a calculating Dumbledore, "Found 'im eavesdropping outside the door, Albus."

This wasn't at all how he remembered that night… but, Severus took stock of the edges of the dream-memory… The edges were normal. Not as sharp as he remembered them the day before when he'd been remembering it.

Dumbledore nodded and stroked his own long beard thoughtfully, "I see… Bring him inside, would you? I will let you know what is decided, Sybill. Thank you for coming to interview with me."

"Of course, Professor Dumbledore, of course," The flighty woman warbled before heading straight down the stairs and leaving Severus alone with the powerful wizard and the barman.

"Severus Snape," Dumbledore frowned, staring the young man down with a steely glint in his eyes, "Hm… Yes. Bring him in, Aberforth, and I'll deal with him so you can return to your pub."

The barman, Aberforth, frowned back at the Headmaster, but shoved Severus in the room regardless. Before he left he gave Albus a withering look and told him, "Keep it quiet, would ya? I don't want anyone gettin' spooked."

Dumbledore chuckled amiably, "Nothing like that will happen, Aberforth, I assure you."

Aberforth snorted and shut the door firmly behind him. With the man's departure went the Headmaster's smile. The old man turned on Severus with a grim look, causing the younger wizard to take a cautious step back and attempt to retrieve his wand. The alcohol made him a little slow and clumsy on the withdrawal.

" _Expelliarmus_!" Dumbledore entoned as Severus finally liberated the slim piece of wood from his holster. The wand jerked from his hand and went sailing across the room, where the old man snatched out of the air, "Now, now, Severus… Not to worry. You'll return to your master soon enough. I'll even give you your wand back. I just need a little bit of your help first.  _Incarcerous_!"

Thick ropes shot from the end of the Headmaster's wand, trapping Severus' arms to his sides and causing him to fall back into the chair Trelawney had been sitting in moments before. The young wizard jerked against the restraints to no avail.

"I would never help you!" Severus snarled. His waking mind was beginning to feel frantic at the words his dream-memory self spoke.

"You have not much choice in the matter, my boy. It seems you are in the best place to help me right now. You and your… well. You should do just wonderfully," Dumbledore told him a matter of factly. The old man strode forward, pointing his wand at Severus' forehead, " _Falsa memoriae_."

Severus jerked awake, panting and sweating heavily. With shaky limbs, he rolled from the bed and staggered to the door. He didn't even bother with a bedrobe as he stumbled down to the Dark Lord's office. The light shone underneath the door, telling him that the man was still awake, and he felt a thrum of some unknown emotion that Voldemort could be spoken to immediately about this new problem in his life. For who else could he go to with such a thing?

He jerked the door open almost violently and stumbled into the room. The Dark Lord frowned in concern, standing from behind his desk slowly.

"Severus…?" He questioned as the younger man practically dropped into the visitor's seat, hair as messy as Harry's and panting as if he'd run a marathon. None of the wards were going off, so he wasn't too terribly worried and spoke calmly, "Is everything alright, son?"

Severus jerked at the title and narrowed his eyes, but did not address the familiarity. Instead he drew one long deep breath and told the Dark Lord, "It might be fake."

"What…  _might be fake_?" Voldemort glared. His long pale hands curled up into fists on the dark wood of his desk. What ever this was about was obviously something important. Severus wouldn't be in such a state otherwise.

"The Prophecy… My memory of it…" Severus told him, sounding hollow, "I need you to check it. I can't… I can't tell on my own."

The Dark Lord nodded grimly and snapped his wand into his hand. The bone white wood pointed at Severus' head, "Take your shields down."

"Of course," Severus breathed. Easier said than done with so much adrenaline pumping through him. It took Severus a full five minutes to move his barriers. He nodded as they finally came down, "Finished…"

Piercing red eyes bored into Severus' and then, " _Legilimens_!"

* * *

When Tom reammerged from both Severus' original memory of the Prophecy and the memory the younger wizard had had in his sleep, the office was practically vibrating with furious magic. The Dark Lord's lip had pulled up into a snarl, and his nails had bitten through the skin of his palms. Severus could not find the energy to be frightened as the man attempted to get himself back under control.

Tom sat back down in his office chair and covered his face with one hand. After a few deep breaths, he sat back and narrowed his eyes at his exhausted looking son.

"It  _was_  fake. He  _knew_  Harry was yours," The Dark Lord growled, "Someone must have told him about the contracts for the Inner Circle members… Then he somehow gained the knowledge of Harry, and it was if that night in the pub you'd fallen into his lap. He implanted that fake memory and Compelled you to bring it to me as quickly as possible. That old goat  _knew_."

Severus closed his eyes and swallowed down the thick feeling of betrayal and anguish attempting to take over his throat. Whispering to keep his voice from breaking, he told Voldemort, "Godric's Hollow… That's why he moved them there instead of keeping them at the Potter Manor. The ancient wards of the Manor would have kept you out long enough for help to arrive. He knew how to get around the Fidelus, but it would have seemed safe enough to Lily and Potter. He set them both up to  _die_."

Voldemort nodded, rolling his wand around absently, "He did. I do not think Pettigrew knew… There was no way that man could Occlude well enough to trick me. It is likely the old goat took the knowledge of the contracts directly from the little rat's mind and let him become Secret Keeper knowing he'd give it to me later."

" _Pettigrew_?" Severus frowned, sitting up a little, "But… it was  _Black_  that told you."

The Dark Lord raised a dubious brow at the Potions Master, "Severus, I  _do_  know who I Marked."

Severus' frown turned into a snarl of his own, "He let Black take the blame. He knew the man wasn't the Secret Keeper, but he let the man be sent to Azkaban anyway."

"I thought you hated Black?" Tom frowned in confusion.

"I do," Severus growled, "But he was named Harry's godfather. Harry would have went to him instead of  _Petunia_ , whom Dumbledore was fully aware did not like her sister. He could have been spared growing up with those  _muggles_. Even if it  _was_  Black."

The Dark Lord slammed a fist down on his desk with a sudden bang that made Severus jerk back. The older wizard fumed for several quiet minutes, before taking another deep breath. Faking calm as well as he could, Tom looked up into Severus' impossibly black eyes.

"Your honor has been restored some measure with this revelation, Severus," He told the man with a quiet sternness, "I will allow another overseer for your task… You were likely Compelled more than once. I want you to brew a Purge to wash out any potion based Compulsions. Tomorrow evening we will return to the goblins to have them run a test for any lingering spells or charms. Do the same for Harry. I do not trust that he was left alone. We will get this all unraveled, Severus."

"As you wish," Severus nodded his agreement and stood slowly from his seat. He paused and frowned at the older wizard, feeling very raw at the moment, "I… Thank you... Father."

Tom's head jolted back. He stared at Severus in disbelief, his heart swelling with an oddly hot emotion.  _What in Merlin's name had brought that on?_  Not that he minded in the slightest. He was just wasn't sure he would ever hear such a word spoken to him, and definitely not so soon. Shaking himself and attempting not to let the warmth bleed into his voice to much, Tom answered quietly, "Of course. I will take care of this."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: As always, no Beta~.
> 
> I want to post again tonight. I'm hoping I can get another chapter transcribed. It's getting exciting since my plot is beginning to knit together.
> 
> Someone said Harry was a bit flippant given his abusive background. I'd like to clarify that in my story the Dursley's are exactly as bad as in canon, and not so much as they are often portrayed in fanon. That is to say, that while they are criminally neglectful and often withheld food, and refused to love Harry, they were not very physically abusive.
> 
> My Harry has a bit of that sass the book!Harry has as a coping mechanism for that kind of abusive home as well as to try and keep his quickly moving familial relationships at a point he's comfortable with. That isn't to say that the abuse he suffered isn't bad. I mean, they stuffed the poor boy in a cupboard half his life, worked him too hard, and fed him little. But he's dealing with that by feeling out his new boundaries in an environment that is allowing him to say out loud the things he'd normally say in his head or under his breath with nothing in the way of the punishments he's used to, and testing to see how Severus and Tom will react to things about his old environment in general. My Harry is healing in a different way than a physically abused child might. Not to mention, he's built walls that'll take some time for the others to even truly see because of the way he deals with it. Later on we will see a change in his attitude, likely after the other children of the Inner Circle are brought about. Unfortunately, Harry does take after his Father... and his Grandfather, for that matter.
> 
> I was also asked about possible downsides to Sev and Harry taking the elixir since they don't have horcruxes. :) I don't see how their could be, honestly. Not since Nicholas and Perenelle Flamel had no horcruxes and consumed the elixir for centuries to no ill-effect. The bit about Tom instituting a fine family tradition and Harry's first horcrux being his Firebolt, absolutely tickled me. And got me thinking. We shall see if something to that effect comes to pass in the future or no.


	9. Purging

The morning after Tom and Severus' revelation Harry was informed of what was to take place that day. He was confused, but didn't bother to agree or disagree either way. The effort would be a waste of all their time.

Severus ate quickly and took off for the lab once again with a cup of coffee. The man certainly looked as if he needed it this morning, Harry noticed. The boy picked at his food for sometime after his father had left, gathering the energy to bother the Dark Lord with a question.

"I asked him a few days ago if he was going to try with me," Harry said. Voldemort looked up from his Daily Prophet slowly, face giving nothing away, "He said he would, so I said I'd call him Father and give him a chance… because he's trying, you know? Well… I was thinking. If you want to try too, I mean… I wouldn't mind calling you Grandfather."

The Dark Lord set down his paper and gave Harry a shrewd look, "What do you require of me?"

Harry's brow furrowed. He dropped his spoon in the bowl of half-eaten porridge he wasn't going to finish, giving the man his own shrewd look, "I just want to know you're trying to be a grandfather. And a father to my Father. That you're trying to do what you're supposed to, and at least attempting to make up for the things you've done to us before you knew."

"Trying…" Tom repeated thoughtfully. He frowned at the boy, but nodded, "Yes. I am trying, Harry. I will try until I succeed."

Harry grinned widely, "As you say, Grandfather. Can I take a few more books from the Alchemy room for my project this morning?"

"You  _may_ ," Tom corrected with a pointed look, "Just ones on golem creation mind you. We'll move on after you've mastered it."

The boy pouted a little, "Aw, come on. I wanted to get a head start on panaceas. Could be useful for the troops if I could figure it out."

"You will not figure out that secret in time for this mission, Harry," Tom smirked, shaking his head at the child's enthusiastic and mildly sarcastic response, "You have an eternity now. Take your time and focus on one thing at a time. Your work will be better for it. The entire point of Alchemy is to purify and  _perfect_."

Harry smiled and stood. He walked around his seat and pushed it in, leaning against the back for a moment to take in the domestic, relaxed face of the Dark Lord, "I might technically be immortal now that you've got us drinking that elixir everyday, but I'm still eleven, you know. I don't have patience. You and Father will have to teach me."

Tom smiled back, "Severus will have to do that. I fear I can only show you how to focus to an unparalleled intensity."

Harry snorted and waved as he made for the door, "Have fun doing whatever it is Dark Lord's do today!"

"Impertinent brat," Tom mumbled under his breath. He attempted to smother an amused smile by taking a long drink of his tea. It failed miserably.

After finishing his meal Voldemort returned to his office with the day's newspaper. It seemed that Dumbledore had begun warning the public about Tom's resurrection, and the Minister of Magic was keen to make the old man out to be a liar. He found it incredibly amusing to read about every morning, and a wonderful change of pace from the usual front page news.

Quirrell was waiting in the visitor's chair when the Dark Lord opened the door. The pale, sweaty man stood when he entered and bowed quickly.

"M'Lord," Quirrell acknowledged, pulling a roll of parchment from his lavender-grey robes, "I have retrieved the list of prisoners and their cell numbers from Lucius."

"Good," Voldemort took the list and swept around his desk. Quirrell waited until he sat down to return to his own seat, "I need one more thing of you, Quirrell."

"Anything, m'Lord," Quirrell breathed out. The Dark Lord smirked, setting his tea down and unfurling the parchment he'd been handed.

"Severus will be joining me on the breakout, and I don't want to leave Harry here alone with only the house elves," Voldemort informed him as he scanned over the names and cell numbers, "I want you to remain here with the boy and keep him safe. Understood?"

"M-my Lord?" Quirrell stuttered, face melting into incredulousness.

" _Safe_. Quirrell. Understood?" The Dark Lord sneered, "If he is hurt or has any complaints it will be taken out of your hide."

Quirrell swallowed thickly and paled significantly, "Q-quite clear, m'Lord."

"Good. You may leave."

As soon as the man had shut the door behind him, Tom let himself chuckle. Quirrell was a good lackey most days and rarely balked at an order, but it seemed babysitting was one of the few that caught him off guard. He probably could have had Lucius' wife do it, but that was much less fun than bothering Quirrell.

Tom decided that the plans for the break were as perfect as they were going to get that morning and spent his morning and half of the afternoon looking through tomes and scrolls for ideas on his other plans. It seemed that Harry's golems would indeed be a perfect place to summon a passed spirit. From there he could give them back their true bodies quite easily with a simple ritual. The only matter that seemed to be slipping by him was how to summon their spirits with perfect precision. It'd all be a wash if he summoned the wrong ones or couldn't manage to get a hold of them at all.

Around four in the afternoon he called it a day, deciding that the inferi-making side of necromancy was a much simpler endeavor than spirit communications. Tom called for a house elf and sent for Severus. He met his grandson on the second floor, and motioned him to follow.

"There you are, Severus," Tom sighed as they met in the entry hall, looking over the Potions Master with a frown. The man was almost dead on his feet, "Are you quite alright?"

"I..." Severus cleared his throat awkwardly and held up two vials half filled with a puce-colored potion, "The Purge is ready."

Tom frowned at the lack of response, but nodded just the same, "Hold on to them. You two should take them after the goblins look over you."

They all crowded into the gigantic Floo once again, and set off for the bank. Harry stumbled from the Floo before either older wizard could grab him and fell on his stomach, gaining him two simultaneous sighs of either exasperation or disappointment. He couldn't really tell.

The boy stood up quickly and dusted himself off, face burning with embarrassment. He took off toward the entrance to the bank calling over his shoulder, "Come  _on_ , you old men."

The sputtering behind him was worth whatever punishment he would get for that, Harry decided.

Severus and Tom caught up to the boy just outside of the door, slowing him down with a firm hand on his shoulder and an indignant scowl from his grandfather.

"I am  _not_ old!" Tom hissed lowly, "I'm only sixty-five!  _Why_  do you two keep saying that?"

Both Harry and Severus chose wisely not to answer. Instead they directed the fuming Dark Lord to the same teller desk as the last time they had came.

Harry smiled at the goblin and gave a little wave, "Hullo, Adkor."

The goblin startled. Slowly he stood up on the elevated seat he was in and looked over the side of his desk at the head of messy ink-dark hair, thick black rimmed glasses, and bright green eyes of one Harry Potter. He replied almost tonelessly, "You remembered my name."

"...Yes?" Harry replied confusedly.

"Most wizards do not bother," Adkor told the boy, ignoring the older two for the moment.

"That's horrid," Harry said, scrunching up his nose, "My aunt and uncle never called me by my name either."

The goblin raised his narrowed eyes to the two wizards behind the boy and frowned, "Quite. How may I help you today?"

Tom shook off the oddness of the previous discussion, and Harry's upsetting comment. He stood up a little straighter and told the goblin, "We require a testing for Compulsion spellwork and potions for my son and grandson, as well the removal of any of the spellwork found."

"And the reason you did not go to the Wizard Hospital?" Adkor asked with a small sneer.

"It is of the utmost importance that the information stay confidential and the working be unbiased," Tom scowled, "St. Mungo's has a likeliness for failure in those areas due to the nature of my... work. I will pay what the goblin healers require of me."

The goblin nodded and pursed his lips, "I will send for a healer for the both of them. You will follow me to a private room."

Adkor grunted in Gobbledegook at a younger goblin and gestured for the trio of dark haired wizards to follow him. The way to the private room was a bit longer than the last time, and required them to go through a number of thick wooden doors. This time the room they were ushered into was cavernous and the walls were completely raw stone. All the seating in the room was sized only for goblins, and as a result Harry was the only one that could sit down to wait. Tom and Severus decided to stand sentry behind him. Adkor nodded to himself with a smirk.

"The healer will tell me what you owe after they are finished and I will subtract it from your vault," the goblin told them. At that moment the doors opened again to admit the young goblin Adkor had sent out followed by two more goblins dressed in soft rusty red robes, "There they are. I will see you after it is finished and present you with the receipts."

With that, the teller left, and Harry and Severus were led into separate corners of the room for their diagnostics. Harry was mystified at the difference between the goblin healers and Madam Pomfrey. The way they ran the tests without a wand were simply fascinating. The healer that lead Harry away sat him down in another one of the goblin sized seats and tapped on his body in numerous places with the edge of his long pointed nail. Harry did try valiantly hard not to laugh, but being jabbed in the ribs got more than one giggle out of him. As the goblin healer tapped him all over, a roll of parchment popped into being along with a long green quill and began writing down loads of information about him.

On the other side of the room, Severus was experiencing the same treatment. Unlike his son, however, the only emotion he could summon up was annoyance. The goblins tactical magic was an interesting thing, but he most certainly did not want to be touched by the vast majority of existence.

In the middle of the room, Tom smirked at Severus irritation and Harry's enthusiasm. After a few minutes of prodding he made his way over to Harry in order to have a look at his diagnostic results, which the goblin healer had only just snatched out of the air.

"How bad is it?" Tom asked grimly. He looked over the goblin's shoulder and let out a hissing breath, "That old meddling  _fool_."

Harry shifted uncomfortably, "Uhm... that bad?"

Tom shook his head, "Not as bad as I had expected, but that was only likely because you're young and he thought you easy to manipulate because of that. There are only two spells from the last year. One in December and one at the end of the year, likely to encourage you to go on your daring adventure. That is still one too many as far as I am concerned. The worst one I see is a potion to make you more open to suggestion... Severus will be livid."

They both turned to check on Severus on the other side of the room. The man was still being poked, and looking increasingly frustrated and red-faced by the entire process. Harry frowned.

"Should we go over there?" Harry asked warily, "He looks like he's about to explode."

"He does, doesn't he?" The Dark Lord smirked, feeling amused by the man's discomfort, "Poor Severus. I suppose we ought to. Come on."

Harry followed behind Tom to the other corner, hiding slightly behind the man's robes as they got closer and Severus' stormy expression became clearer. He looked like Uncle Vernon when Harry had accidentally turned his teacher's hair blue that once in primary. Harry made sure to keep Tom between the two of them.

"Quite a read out, Severus," Tom remarked quietly. The parchment filling up behind the healer was more than four times the length of Harry's, and filled much more heavily, "Have you been testing experiments on your self again?"

Severus' already flushed face got impossibly more red, "Look, occasionally no one wants to help and animal testing is not always accurate to a magical human being. I am dedicated to the results. It's a necessary part of experimentation to test the end product. You know that."

Tom just smirked and shook his head, "I will find you test subjects, Severus. Stop testing on yourself."

Severus frowned, but gave the man a cautious nod in response. A few minutes later and the quill finally stopped. The parchment ended at twice the size as it was when the other two had come over, causing a low groan to escape Severus' throat, "Sweet Merlin..."

"You're going to have to go through and mark the ones that aren't yours," Tom frowned, "This is ridiculous, Severus."

"It's not as difficult as it looks," Severus sighed, "It is unlikely he used many potions on me, if any at all. I will still check to see if there are any I consumed without an antidote of some kind being taken directly afterwards... The spells are the most important to see to."

Tom nodded and took the parchment from the goblin with an absent "Thanks". Harry settled in one of the small chairs and laid his head on his knees tiredly.

"There have been several spell compulsions placed on you, and there are more false memories planted somewhere in that mind of yours..." The Dark Lord informed them grimly, "but the old goat did find a way to get potions in you, Severus."

Severus scowled blackly, "I doubt that."

"So you  _are_ in the habit of Obliviating yourself after consuming a potion to open you to suggestion?" Tom asked with a pointedly raised eyebrow, "In that case, it seems you need closer watching than I thought."

" _What?"_  The Potions Master snarled. He stalked over in a flurry of black robes and snatched the parchment from Voldemort's hands. An act that had the Dark Lord glaring at him in annoyance, "That lying, manipulative, life-ruining ba-"

The hands of his grandfather covered Harry's ears as the other man started to rant and rave on the Headmaster. Harry frowned up at the Dark Lord, a little irritated that the man wouldn't let him hear the long winded tirade. Eventually Severus calmed enough to lean back against the raw stone wall and pant, and Tom released Harry's ears.

"You know, I've probably heard worse, right?" Harry grumbled, slumping down in his chair.

Tom rolled his eyes and ignored the boy, "We will have to wait until after the raid to figure out what memories of yours are false, Severus. You do not need that kind of emotional turmoil with the... Return tomorrow evening. The still active compulsions can be removed from you both and you can take the Purge before bed. In the morning you should be yourself enough to be a help rather than a hindrance."

Severus nodded wearily and stood from his slumped position, "You're allowing me on this mission...?"

"I am," Tom replied, "I've already gotten Quirrell to watch Harry. I am looking forward to his face after the announcement that Harry is my grandson at the full meeting."

"I thought we were doing this late at night...?" Severus frowned.

"We are," Tom gave Harry a pointed look, and the boy wrinkled his nose. Voldemort was always eerily aware of Harry's intentions.

"If you think I'm going to sleep with you two doing dangerous stuff in the middle of the night, you're dead wrong," Harry huffed and crossed his arms, "But I do  _not_  need a babysitter. I'm almost twelve!"

Severus sighed and rolled his eyes in exasperation, "No arguing, brat. Get up here so the healers can finish their job and we can go back to the manor. This day has been much too long."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: No Beta~
> 
> Posted this morning instead of at three AM last night in deference to septimusromanseverus' sleep patterns. Bahahaha~
> 
> I'm gonna attempt to get two more chapters out today. I'm ready for this darn prison breakout already. There's been a lot of exposition and action is overdue. lol


	10. Dark Lording

After they returned home from the spell removal (a odd experience Harry hoped never to repeat) Harry took the puce colored potion his father had given him and promptly passed out on his comfortable bed without even changing out of his day robes or getting under the covers. The next morning he woke to the wrinkled and sweat soaked fabric sticking to every inch of his skin. He grimaced all the way to the shower. As he peeled the clothing off he made a mental note to make sure that the elves changed his bedding before the end of the day.

 

At breakfast Harry was treated to the rare sight of a freshly showered Severus Snape. Apparently the potion had made the man sweat as much as Harry had that night. He froze in the doorway looking almost insultingly gobsmacked.

 

“Your hair is clean,” He stated stupidly.

 

Severus scowled and sat down his coffee a little harder than necessary, “It’s almost always clean, you impossible child.”

 

Harry wrinkled his nose and shook his head, “Is not. I haven’t seen it clean the entire time I’ve known you.”

 

“It has  _ too _ ,” Severus growled almost petulantly as Harry came to take his seat beside him.

 

“Severus, stop trying to convince the child. We all know you’re the type to fall into the kind of depression that makes you believe your personal hygiene is a non-issue,” Voldemort put in from behind his Daily Prophet, “You’ve been a widower since  _ before _ the accident. We all know you’re not trying. There’s no shame in acknowledging the fact.”

 

Severus growled and stabbed at his sausage, but didn’t bother arguing the point.

 

“You’re kind of in a mood this morning, aren’t you…?” Harry asked warily as he began filling his own plate with scrambled eggs.

 

“The amount of compulsions set on me was considerably greater than your own,” Severus grumbled, “It will take some time for the emotions to settle. That’s why we took it last night.”

 

“So you’d be ready for the great prison escape?” Harry chirped, grabbing a couple pieces of bacon from the serving platter with his hand. Severus watched the action with a look of utter distaste.

 

“Would you  _ please  _ use the blasted serving utensils?” Severus growled. Harry shrugged in response and shoved a bite of egg into his mouth, chewing unnecessarily loud just to be irritating.

 

When they reconvened for lunch Severus was in a much more pleasant mood. Spending the morning working on last minute potion batches for the night’s activities allowed him to relax and get rid of the last of the foreign emotions and suppress the fury that was slowly building in his gut. The exhaustion of the experience must have been obvious, as after they had eaten, the Dark Lord insisted he return to his rooms to rest before the meeting. Severus grumbled about being treated like a child all the way up to his rooms, but didn’t really fight the order. He really was very tired.

 

Tom sent a house elf to rouse Severus almost six hours later so that he would be ready when the meeting was called. When the man strode into the meeting hall forty-five minutes later looking much better rested than he had in days, Tom frowned.

 

“You’ve not been sleeping well for more than a couple of days, have you?” The Dark Lord asked. Severus waved a dismissive hand and came to stand beside the massive black dias.

 

“Why is Harry here?” Severus asked, frowning at the boy. Harry was sitting on the arm of Voldemort’s throne and kicking his feet back and forth like a much smaller child.

 

“Learning the family trade,” Harry grinned impishly.

 

“The family trade?” Severus asked, voice dry and unimpressed.

 

“Yeah, you know.  _ Dark Lording, _ ” Harry’s eyes glimmered with a mischief that made Severus scowl.

 

Tom chuckled and patted the boy’s head in amusement, “He wanted to wait for our return, Severus. He’s worried about us. Aren’t you?”

 

Harry mock sneered, “Worried? About _ you two _ ? No… I’m just… interested in the execution of this plan. That’s all. You two are perfectly safe, I’m sure.”

 

Severus sighed, writing the entire situation off as a loss, and leaned against the chest high black stone, “Where is Quirrell?”

 

“Get up here and I’ll summon him,” Voldemort told him, “I want you to stand on my other side anyway.”

 

Severus frowned but complied, pulling himself up onto the dais in one smooth motion. Harry made a choking sound that made Severus look at him in confusion. The child’s eyes were wide and disbelieving.

 

“What?” Severus asked as he rolled up his left sleeve and strode to the other side of the Dark Lord’s throne.

 

“How strong  _ are _ you exactly?” Harry asked in awe. Severus frowned and held out his arm to Voldemort, who took it and pressed his thumb against the Mark there.

 

“Physically? Strong enough. Cauldrons are often quite heavy, and I prefer to use as little magic on them as possible to avoid cross-contamination,” Severus shrugged, ignoring the slight burn of the summoning. Harry raised both eyebrows at that answer and gave Severus a onceover as if trying to determine his muscle mass underneath the bulky Death Eater robes. Quirrell entered from the open double doors and stopped just inside the threshold.

 

“M’Lord?” Quirrell asked, bowing and shooting confused looks at the two other wizards positioned very close around and even on the Dark Lord’s throne.

 

“I am about to summon the free Inner and Outer circle. The Inner circle should remember where the meeting hall is, but the Outer circle may need herding,” Voldemort told him, ignoring the flabbergasted expression the man was giving his son and grandson, “After everyone has arrived you are to return here. When we leave to retrieve the imprisoned you will remain in the meeting hall with Harry until we have made it back.”

 

“Yes, m’Lord,” Quirrell’s brow furrowed, but he bowed low and scurried back out of the room and into the entrance hall.

 

“You will tell me if he neglects to watch you, Harry,” the Dark Lord told his grandson. Still looking at the boy he pressed his thumb into Severus’ Dark Mark once again and directed a much bigger calling into it, “I mean it. He will be punished appropriately if he does not take care of you in our absence.”

 

Harry frowned at Voldemort and opened his mouth to reply, but the sharp intake of breath from his father made him look up. Severus’ teeth were clenched and his arm was spasming in the Dark Lord’s hand.

 

“You’re hurting him!” Harry exclaimed, reaching out to move the men’s arms from each other.

 

“It’s alright, Harry,” Severus shuddered as the energy of the summoning began to fade, leaving the sensation of pins and needles behind, “The Mark has always stung when used. It’s a part of the magic it works on.”

 

“It was a problem I originally meant to attempt to fix, but ignored after my mind began to degenerate,” Voldemort shrugged, and stopped Severus after he pulled his sleeve back down, and went for the mask that was attached to his belt, “No mask, Severus. They need to know you stand in a space different from them.”

 

“I… As you wish,” Severus replied confusedly.

 

The meeting hall began filling with Death Eaters after that. First the six Inner Circle members who stopped in momentary shock after the automatic bow just inside the door at the sight of Severus and Harry standing and sitting respectively at the Dark Lord’s side. A harsh glare from Voldemort snapped them out of it and had all six moving as quickly as possible without running to their spots in a semi-circle around the dais.

 

Groups of Outer Circle members followed soon after, taking their places behind the Inner Circle after a mass bow, a show of reverence to the Lord they had not yet seen again in the flesh, and a short shocked silence to stare at the other two wizards on the dais.

 

“My friends,” Voldemort smirked, standing from his throne and giving Harry’s shoulder a parting squeeze that the Death Eaters’ eyes seemed to hone in on, “I would welcome you all home… but there are many who are not with us, and what is home without our family? Tonight we will bring home the rest of your number.”

 

A cheer went up from the mass of masked followers, that quickly silenced at a gesture from the Dark Lord. Harry shivered from his perch on the cold black throne, an odd feeling washing down his spine, and his heart skipping a beat.

 

“Yes, yes… Shortly we will make our way to the shores of the North Sea where the Dementor Lord waits for us. The guards of Azkaban will pull down the Apparation wards, allowing us to move directly into the prison. Each of you are already assigned to a group led by two of my Inner Circle and will retrieve those of your number imprisoned within the three separate blocks. After opening their cells you will give each prisoner a portkey given to you by your mission leaders that will return both them and you to the meeting hall. Malfoy, Goyle. You will take your team to the West block. Nott, Crabbe. You take the East block. McNair and Avery, you will take the South block. The Lestranges will be retrieved by Severus and I personally.”

 

A unanimous “Yes’m’Lord”  from the large group of Death Eaters answered Voldemort’s instruction.

 

“Excellent. Quirrell,” The Dark Lord snapped, turning his sharp crimson eyes on the man standing at the back of the group, “Remain here. I will not tolerate complaints.”

 

“Y-yes, m’lord,” Quirrell bowed and began making his way toward the front of the room as the group began making their max exodus to the entry hall where it was possible to Apparate away.

 

“We will return quickly, Harry,” Severus told the very nervous looking boy still perched on Voldemort’s throne, “Stay safe.”

 

Harry snorted and gave the man a withering look, ruined a bit by his apparent anxiousness, “ _ I _ should stay safe...? Look, just be careful, alright? If you two don’t come home it’s gonna throw my entire life into a mess again and I can’t deal with that so soon after the last time.”

 

Severus and the Dark Lord gave the boy amused affirmative nods and disappeared off the dais with resounding  _ CRACK _ !

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Splitting this chapter~ The second should be up before the end of the night, and will be longer.
> 
> No Beta per usual.


	11. Prison Break

The breeze off the North Sea leached any warmth the summer day might have given the beach away, but The Dementor Lord and his guard waiting just over the dark moonlit water for them when they arrived made that breeze feel as if it were biting cold and the middle of winter.

Severus shuddered involuntarily as Voldemort took a hold of his elbow and led him toward the water. All the while more and more Death Eaters Apparated onto the sand behind them.

The Dark Lord and the Dementor Lord bowed slightly to each other. Severus kept an eye on the two, his hand already grasping around the black wood of his wand. The Lords seemed to be having an entirely silent discussion between minds, and the thought made Severus' skin crawl.

After a few moments Voldemort gave a sharp nod and turned back to his followers. The icy feeling gripping Severus' heart slowly faded away as the Dementor Lord and his escort turned and headed back across the sea at a breakneck pace.

"The wards will be down in exactly ten minutes. Stand ready," The Dark Lord commanded the swarm of skeletal masked shadows on the small dunes behind them, "The Dementor's will turn on the Aurors inside, but you must not rely on that. Some are quite capable of a Patronus. Stay cautious and move quickly."

The group bowed in acceptance, hiding the moon's reflection off of the masks for a moment and making the dunes look as if they were covered in shifting blackness. Severus took a deep breath and strengthened his mental shields while they waited. Occlumency would help keep the darker thoughts away around the Dementor's, even if it couldn't keep out the unnatural chill.

The time passed quicker than it should have, and before long Voldemort was calling, "Now!"

A resounding crack echoed out as the entire group Apparated to the entrance of Azkaban at almost the same time.

The shore they Apparated on to was even colder than the beach they met on before. Severus couldn't help but tug his thick robes tighter to him as the frigid sea spray crashed onto the rocky shore from almost every direction. Shouting filtered down from the gate of the prison. The bright silvery light of Patroni being cast from ahead illuminated the crumbling pathway to the towering structure of Azkaban, and the mass of Death Eaters quickly split off into their groups surging forward with sharp cackles and gutteral yelling.

Severus waited beside the Dark Lord while the others plowed their way inside the massive grey building. After almost everyone else had gone, Voldemort followed. Severus stayed only a step behind the man's sweeping gait, wand at the ready.

The shadows clung to every surface of the gates, fluttering in spell light as the human guards were fought down quickly. Voldemort did not seem to notice the eeriness as he strode past the fallen Aurors just inside, but Severus felt a heaviness settle in his stomach when their glassy eyes caught his attention. The Dementors' aura permeated every damp dark corridor they made their way through even if there was not a single one of the creatures in immediate evidence. Severus felt colder than he ever remembered being in his life. In a bit of desperation he sought out his happiest memories and drew his wand.

" _Expecto patronum_ ," the silver doe shot from the end of Severus' wand and leaped around him to fight back the shadows. While the air still felt like it was heavy, the atmosphere lightened enough to allow Severus to regain some control. The Dark Lord snorted derisively a few steps ahead of him.

"Couldn't make it, hm?"

Severus took a deep breath to wrestle his irritation down and keep the Patronus just as strong. Calmly he replied, "Not everyone is as unfeeling and  _dead_   _inside_  as you."

"Pity," The Dark Lord said, almost sounding as if he truly believed it was.

Endless stairs and gloomy cell covered hallways later they came to a stop outside of a rusted iron door marked with a 93. Voldemort stepped up to it and slid back the grate to peer inside the dark cell.

"Bella," he cooed inside the blackness. Severus shuddered, feeling oddly grossed out, and directed his doe closer to his person, " _There_  you are, lovely."

"Master?" Came Bellatrix's raspy voice. She sounded choked on tears and the realization unsettled Severus for some reason, "I knew you'd come for us, My Lord. I knew you would... I did. They said you were dead, but I knew you couldn't die!"

"I know you did, Bella," The Dark Lord smiled almost warmly into the darkness, "Do your chains allow you to move from the door, dear?"

The clattering of thick chains being quickly shoved back from the door echoed down the corridor for a moment before Bellatrix answered, "Yes, m'Lord. I am against the wall."

"Good. Wait until the metal has turned back from white before you attempt to leave," Voldemort instructed. Severus took a step back behind the man as he lifted his bone colored wand, " _Ictusque nidore_."

A red light shot from the end of Voldemort's wand and the great iron door turned orange as if with heat, then red, and then much too quickly white. The temperature of the corridor didn't change at all, but the door melted down in a puddle on the floor as if it had been superheated all at once. Bellatrix screeched with delight inside, her chains clattering behind her as she rushed forward to bow at the Dark Lord's feet and kiss the hem of his robes.

Severus took in her appearance as Voldemort quickly removed the woman's chains. A decade in this hellhole had made her skin paper thin and even more pale than his own. Bellatrix's hair was as wild as ever and matted in places, her eyes even brighter with madness then Severus remembered them, and she was covered in a thin layer of dark grime only cut through by tear tracks. He frowned as she finally noticed him standing behind the Dark Lord.

" _Snape_?!" She hissed in disbelief.

"Have a nice stay, Bella?" Severus drawled, unable to keep himself from taunting her a bit. A sharp slap to the back of his head said his father was not at all amused.

Bellatrix frowned in confusion at the action. Before the man would have just cursed Snape. What had happened?

" _Behave_ , Severus," Voldemort frowned and pointed to the cells on the other side of the wall, "We still need Rodolphus and Rabastan. We haven't the time for sarcasm."

"Lead the way then,  _my Lord_ ," Severus grumbled.

"Do  _not_  disrespect him like that!" Bellatrix snarled, standing and looming in Severus' face with all of her two inch height difference. The Potions Master just smirked and looked at the Dark Lord from the corner of his eye. What a perfect time to take a page out of Harry's book.

"Father," Severus drawled petulantly, "She's  _touching_  me."

Voldemort snorted, covering his face with both hands and turned away from both of them to try and hide his laughter. Something Severus had never in his life seen the man do. Bellatrix's expression went from murderous to completely confused in moments.

"What…? My Lord?" She sounded lost, and Severus counted the entire thing as a success as he swept around the Dark Lord to finish liberating the Lestrange brothers. He could hear Voldemort trying to assure Bellatrix that he was fine while he worked and didn't fight the satisfied smirk that crept on his face.

Rodolphus and Rabastan were just as dirty, gaunt, and pale as Bellatrix, but their eyes looked considerably less insane as they thanked Severus quietly and went immediately to bow before their Lord.

On the way back over Severus took a moment to stop by a cell with a number he knew from the papers, and pulled open the grate. A low animalistic growl came from inside, and Severus sneered as he called inside, "Already lost it, Black?"

Suddenly a hairy dirty face was pressed against the grate of the cell door, and Sirius Black was trying to get his grimy fingers through the bars to strangle Severus, "You slimy Death Eater bastard! I'll kill you!"

Severus stepped back and pursed his lips, "Tsk, tsk, Black. Already tried that once, haven't you? I doubt the second attempt will be more successful. Besides, I have a reason to stay alive now. Did you know Lily's boy is mine?"

"Don't you touch Harry, you dirty snake!" Black snarled, pulling at the rusted bars frantically, "That's a lie! Stay away from him!"

Black's yelling finally caught the Dark Lord's attention, and the man sighed heavily.

"Stop taunting Lord Black and get over here, Severus. There we are… The last of my Inner Circle," Voldemort smirked at the Lestranges, and Severus gave Black one final smug look before he ambled back over to the sound of the man shouting obscenities. The Dark Lord took Bellatrix and Rodolphus by the arm and nodded at Severus, "Apparate directly to the meeting hall."

Severus rolled his eyes at the repetitive order, but grabbed a hold of Rabastan's shoulder and immediately spun on the spot, side-long Apparating them directly in front of the great black dais in the meeting hall.

"Father!" He heard almost immediately. The next second Harry was jumping off the dais and onto his back, and Severus stumbled under the sudden weight directly after magical travel, almost taking them both to the ground.

"Harry!" Severus yelled, spinning a bit to try and peel the boy off of him, "You  _cannot_  just attack someone right out of an Apparation!"

Harry laughed and buried his head into the back of Severus' robes, "Sorry. You were late."

Severus turned slowly and looked behind him, only to be greeted with the silently confused stares of the recently escaped Outer Circle and the slightly indignant followers that already knew of their relationship and who Harry even was. Embarrassed a little, Severus cleared his throat, elbowed Harry in the thigh, and grumbled, "Get off me. You're ruining my image."

Harry snorted, but jumped down off of Severus before he scrambled backup on the dais. A moment later the Dark Lord Apparated himself and his two Lestranges a few feet beside Severus. Every Death Eater in the room immediately dropped into a low bow. Severus took the deviation of everyone's eyes to follow Harry back up to his place beside the throne.

"Rise," Voldemort commanded, turning in a snap of robes and heading toward his son and grandson. Instead of vaulting up like the younger wizards, he hissed out, "~ _stairs_ ~."

The dais shifted into stairs much easier to get up and he gave both Harry and Severus mildly disapproving glare as he swept up them quickly.

" _~Not fair, you cheated~_ ," Harry huffed, folding his arms over his chest and leaning back against the back of the black throne. Several Death Eaters gasped out loud, but the Dark Lord ignored them as he sat down, and raised an eyebrow at Harry.

"~ _It isn't cheating to use what you have. Both of you should have figured this out by now_ ~," He told the boy. Severus snorted in disbelief, and leaned against the side of Voldemort's throne.

"~ _You two are scaring the children~,"_  The Potions Master smirked to the sound of even more gasps, and a noise almost like a whine from where Voldemort had left Bellatrix. The Dark Lord frowned and looked out at the sea of black and prison greys.

"Right…" Voldemort stood again and smoothed out his robes unnecessarily, "Mission Leaders. Are all accounted for?"

"All accounted for, m'Lord," Lucius Malfoy answered from near the front. Nott and McNair repeated the sentiment from further back in the disorganized sprawl of people.

"Perfect," The Dark Lord told them grimly. He turned on his heel a bit and looked over his shoulder, "And how was Quirrell, Harry?"

"A little boring, but he did what you asked him too, Grandfather," Harry answered with a wicked grin, effectively setting the pace for their announcement. A sharp intake of breath echoed the entire hall. Quirrell looked positively ill, "Did you and Father have a nice trip?"

Severus' smirk deepened at the boy's antics and he raised an eyebrow, "Have you ever been to Azkaban, son? Absolute dump."

Bellatrix screeched wordlessly, and the Lestrange brothers had to grab her to keep her from lunging on to the dais to get to Severus.

"I take it she doesn't like you much?" Harry grimaced.

"Not at all," Severus grinned evilly.

"You two are having way too much fun with this," Voldemort sighed. He turned back around and fixed the few Healers he had in his service with a hard look, wrapping the Dark Lord persona back around himself, "All of you are to take the escapee's to the guest rooms on the third floor. Then you may leave as long as you are not a Healer. Have the elves help you with whatever you need. Take care of anything medically pressing. Severus has provided any potion you may need, all you must do is request it of an elf. We will see to the rest in the morning. Leaders, you are also to remain behind. I want a full report first thing at breakfast."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Darn it, Harry, just couldn't help yourself could you?
> 
> I'm going to have a lot of fun with breakfast in the morning. They'll finally get to use the big dining room. Hohoho I have no idea why they decided to sass so much this chapter, but Severus was really feeling himself, I guess. That whole compulsion Purge business must do a body good, aye?
> 
> I've also figured out exactly what I wanna do with Sirius, so that's gonna be a fun time.


	12. Breakfast with Auntie Bella

Harry woke up mid-morning the next day feeling a little excited. He had actually kind of enjoyed the time alone with his father and grandfather, but now there were  _more_  people in the Manor to talk to… and annoy. His family was getting used to him now. He needed fresh minds to pick at.

After his shower Harry picked out the simplest black robes he could find. The plain robes mimicked what he knew his father and the Dark Lord liked to wear, a fact Harry knew would cause optimal frustration for some of the followers.

"Teesley?" He called as he sat to pull on his shoes. The little elf popped in looking a bit worse for wear than normal. Harry froze and frowned at her, "Oh, I'm sorry, Teesley. I forgot you'd be working more with the… guests. I was just wondering where breakfast is being served this morning. I should've just went down to check myself."

"No beings sorry, Young Master. Teesley is being happy to help," Teesley squeaked, alarmed at an apology, "Breakfast is beings served in the grand dining room. The Master and his Potions Master is just being seated with the guests."

"Perfect," Harry grinned, jumping off the bed and running toward the door, "Thanks, Teesley!"

"You is being welcomed, Young Master!" The elf replied, popping back away to the kitchens as Harry left the room.

Harry practically flew down the halls. He managed to narrowly avoid other people on the grand staircase as he did something he hadn't tried before and slid down the viper carved bannister. Several exhausted looking prison escapees watched his descent with horror. Luckily, Harry didn't accidentally topple anyone, and made a neat stop at the bottom punctuated by a huge grin and a less than graceful dismount.

Walking to catch his breath, Harry made his way down the left archway instead of the right like the days before. The sounds that came with a large group eating echoed out into the hall. Hushed conversation, clanking silverware, and an occasional maniacal giggle. It reminded Harry of the Great Hall at Hogwarts, just a little more crazy sounding, and the thought made him smile even brighter. Several listless Death Eaters stood around the threshold of the gigantic walnut doors that led to the dining room with steaming mugs of coffee and hollow looks in their eyes. Harry grinned and waved at all of them as he walked past. They didn't react much.

Just like at the family table the Dark Lord sat at the very end, and Severus at his left. An empty seat was kept by the Potions Master and Harry felt something within himself relax as he saw it there. Part of him had worried he might not get to sit with the older wizards while the guests were here.

Harry slid into his seat and sent a blinding grin to his father and Voldemort, "Good morning!"

"Someone's in a good mood," The Dark Lord observed with a raised eyebrow. He took a long sip of his tea and picked up the Daily Prophet in his other hand.

"Well, you two might be antisocial hermits, but I'm kind of excited about having more people around the manor," Harry told them as he laddled an assortment of chopped fruit on to his plate, "It'll be entertaining to bother other people for a change. You two are getting predictable. Father is horrified by anything dark or morbid I say, and Grandfather thinks it's all great fun. I need a new routine."

Severus snorted and set his coffee mug down, "Do not provoke anyone, Harry. Not everyone that came back with us last night is sane enough for your usual brand of humor."

"If any one touches you in  _any_  way," Voldemort scowled darkly as he unfolded the paper, "You are to call for a house elf to come get me or your father. I will skin them alive and leave their body on the lawn as a warning."

Harry choked on a bite of toast and coughed a few times before he could get out a slightly hysterical, "Y-yes, Grandfather."

"Seems your father isn't the only one shocked by morbidity," The Dark Lord smirked in satisfaction and went back to reading the Daily Prophet's less than accurate coverage of the breakout the night before. Severus rolled his eyes, but patted Harry's back and handed the boy a glass of water.

"That was a bit more graphic than I would've phrased it, but he's right," the Potions Master said, "At least… about having an elf get one of us, anyway."

Some distance down the table Harry heard the wild looking woman that tried to attack his father in the meeting hall last night make a furious snarling kind of noise. Harry shuddered and looked down at where she sat. Her dark eyes were glaring nothing less than pure malice at Severus. Harry frowned.

"Who is she?" Harry whispered back toward his family.

Severus sneered down the table at the woman as he answered, "Bellatrix Lestrange.  _Completely_  mad, I'm afraid."

Bellatrix made a sound like she was screaming without opening her mouth, then swallowed and closed her eyes for a moment. After pulling it together a little she looked to Harry with a little less fury and grit out, "I am not  _mad_."

Everyone within hearing range chuckled under their breath or snorted loudly in disbelief. All except the two male Lestranges sitting on either side of the woman. The two grown men seemed to shrink into their seats a little. The Dark Lord looked out from behind his paper with a scowl and pursed lips.

"Severus be nice to my Bella. She's had an extremely difficult time lately," He said completely serious, "Bellatrix ignore Severus or you'll be working back your honor with him this afternoon."

Bellatrix shrieked and giggled, leaning forward on the table towards Severus, "You're in trouble?!"

Severus glared daggers at the woman and refused to answer. Unfortunately, Voldemort had no such compunction and answered her in an almost bored tone, "He allowed himself to be manipulated by that old goat. He's 'Grounded', on Mark probation, and must work back his honor in the old way. He has also been pulled off spy duties."

The woman dissolved into shrill hysterical giggles. The men on either side of her looked at each other, decided it was safe, and sat back up in their seats with barely noticeable sighs of relief.

"He tricked you!" Bella grinned, panting a little from the force of her sadistic joy, "I thought you were  _clever_ , Severus. That's why you went to spy in the first place, isn't it?"

Severus tightened the hold on his coffee mug until his knuckles lost whatever color they had. He snarled back, "Shut up, Bella. He's manipulated more powerful wizards than me. I have nothing to be ashamed of."

"Actually, you kind of do," Harry put in around a bite of some kind of sweet melon he'd never tried before. His father turned the daggers he was glaring at the witch down the table on to Harry, "Well… I mean… You wouldn't have to work for your honor back otherwise, would you?"

The Dark Lord snorted and smirked at Severus, "He has you there, son."

Severus closed his eyes and took one long deep breath in. On the exhale he breathed, "I am going to  _murder_  someone."

Harry laughed and looked down the table. The wild looking lady grinned conspiratorially at him and winked.

"Come talk to me later, little heir," Bella told him, "I can tell you all sorts of stories about your father there."

Severus blanched and turned in his seat sharply, "Do  _not_ , Bella! Keep those to yourself!"

"Oh, calm down, Severus," Voldemort sighed, rolling his eyes, "Harry is going to hear about the things you've done eventually anyway in this manor. He knows I'm a mass murderer and still likes me."

Harry nodded and shrugged, "I do. It's probably a sign of whatever family insanity I inherited from you two nutters."

Severus choked and sputtered along with several Death Eaters in hearing range, " _Harry_!"

"What? It's true. You two are Grade A Crazy," Harry said, popping another melon into his mouth with relish.

The Dark Lord snorted and waved a hand beside his head lazily, "I think he's shocked about the whole mass murdering thing."

"Yes! What is  _wrong_  with you!?" Severus exclaimed, shooting incredulous looks between his son and father.

"Just rolling with the punches, dad," Harry told the man.

Severus froze.

Dad. Harry just called him dad. Blinking several times in shock, Severus looked the boy over. He was just eating like he didn't even realize he had said it. Should he say anything about it? Would it ruin the moment? Did it even mean anything, or was it a slip of the tongue?

"Dad now, hm?" Voldemort asked before Severus could decide for himself. The Potions Master sent an irritated glare at the man.

Harry stopped midway into a bite of toast. He frowned and set the food back on his plate, turning cautiously toward Severus.

"I, er… Is that okay, or…?" The boy asked, looking nervous for some reason, "Father is a little long sometimes..."

Severus swallowed and gave a sharp nod, "Of course. I just wasn't expecting it. That's all."

Harry gave the man a tentative smile that Severus couldn't help but return a little. Down the table Bellatrix made dramatic gagging noises. Severus glared at her, but Harry laughed uproariously, yet again garnering a wide grin from the witch.

"I like him," She told the Dark Lord.

Voldemort smiled almost warmly at her, "I'm glad, Bella, dear. Maybe you can help us train him after you get your strength back up."

Bellatrix seemed delighted with the prospect. Severus felt positively ill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Boy, Auntie Bella sure is a character. lmao
> 
> Next chapter Severus finally gets to start on his honor punishment. He's going to be irritated for daaaaays. Bless his little heart. More work on Tom's problem as well, and Harry makes his first successful golem with a little unorthodox help from Auntie Bella.


	13. Honor

When the Death Eaters were called down to the meeting hall that afternoon, Harry slipped down among them. Technically, he was supposed to stay up in his room, but it was highly doubtful Voldemort didn't know what he had planned to do, and the man hadn't said anything against it. Just hinted strongly that he should stay out of sight.

Pressed up against the wall, Harry slid past the various adults until he found Bellatrix. She wouldn't rat him out for this, he just knew it.

"Hello there," Bella cooed at Harry as he squeezed between her and Rodolphus, "Come to watch the fun, little Harry?"

Harry smiled and nodded, "He'd be furious if he knew I was here, but Grandfather just said to stay out of sight."

"A boy after my own heart," Bellatrix mock swooned, slinging an arm around him as if she'd known Harry his whole life. She smelled very nice after being able to bathe for the first time in years. Like juniper and lavender, "I don't know how a gem like you could've come from  _Severus_."

"Awh, he's doing pretty alright as a dad so far," Harry shrugged awkwardly, "He does need to calm down though. If he stresses himself out anymore he's gonna have a heart attack or something. I'm too much trouble for him to be so high-strung and survive past my teens."

Bella laughed loudly, and Harry cringed, glancing around to make sure they hadn't garnered any attention. No one turned to look at them though. Apparently the Death Eaters as a group were used to the woman's noise levels and treated it as a matter of course.

People near the doors started to bow as the Dark Lord entered the room. Harry let Bellatrix pull him to the ground with her when his grandfather made it to the section they were in. The boy had to fight down giggles when Bella's thin fingers poked into his ribs playfully. She winked at him as they stood back up after Voldemort had passed by them. Harry grinned back.

Bellatrix was fun. He wondered why she and his father didn't get along.

"Shouldn't the Inner Circle be up front?" Harry whispered, brow furrowing slightly.

Bella shook her head, sending wild dark curls all over the place. She bent down a little and whispered back, "Not for an honor punishment. The Dark Lord, the task overseer he chooses, and the offender are the only ones involved with the actual ritual. We're just here to be made aware of the transgressions. It's announced in public like this because the Dark Lord has decided he shamed all of us with whatever he's done."

Harry frowned. He didn't know there was a ritual involved.

"I can't see much," He grumbled, stretching up to stand on his tiptoes in an attempt to see over the tall wizard in front of him.

"That's the problem with being short and having to stay out of sight, innit? You're probably safe enough now," Bella huffed a laugh under her breath. She pulled at Rodolphus' robe sleeve, "Rod. Pick the boy up."

Rodolphus, bent down, grabbed Harry by the waist, and heaved the boy onto his shoulders in one smooth motion. Harry had to fight back a yelp at the sudden movement, and grasped at the man's wrists with sweaty hands. His heart was pounding a mile a minute. He'd never sat on anyone's shoulders like this before.

"Th-thank you," Harry whispered to the man, letting go of Rodolphus' wrists and wiping his own hands on his robe to get the sweat off, "Sorry."

"No problem, little heir," Rod said in a quiet rumbly sort of voice, "Just try not to wiggle around too much. Don't want you falling off."

* * *

Severus stood near the dais at the front of the milling crowd of Death Eaters waiting for the Dark Lord to arrive, and trying to ignore the cauldrons placed beside the throne that likely held his punishment inside them. Beside him, Lucius Malfoy kept sending calculating looks from the corner of his grey eyes and frowning. After a few moments of being looked over Severus sighed and gave in.

"What is it, Lucius?"

The blonde straightened and sniffed contemptuously, a defense mechanism the man never really grew out of, "You were a parselmouth all this time?"

Severus scowled, confused that out of all the things Lucius could have brought up it was this. Shaking his head, Severus narrowed his eyes at the man.

"Yes," He sneered slightly, "Why? Jealous?"

Lucius huffed, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't  _know_ ," Severus told him in disbelief.  _Really_ , Malfoys were the  _strangest_  people.

Lucius didn't comment, but still looked quite put out.

Soon Voldemort entered the meeting hall, setting off a chain reaction of bows. As the man strode past and hissed the order for stairs, Severus glanced back over the crowd and caught sight of Harry sitting atop Rodolphus Lestrange's shoulders. He glared at the top of the boys head as he whispered to Rod. Severus really had not wanted Harry to be here for this.

"My Death Eaters," The Dark Lord started, drawing his attention back to the dias, "One among you has lost honor, and must earn it back."

Severus shifted uncomfortably and frowned up at the man. Absently he wondered if they had put this off another day or so, if his false memories would've keep him from having to do the punishment. Unfortunately, Voldemort had already told a group of them when it would happen, and the Dark Lord was nothing if not a man of his word. Even if it was a word no one even wanted.

"Severus. You stand to face judgement before your sworn Lord," Voldemort snapped, starting the ritual. Severus took a step out of the crowd and kneeled on the hard marble floor, "The position you took came from the suggestion of an enemy you were careless around. Your lack of caution caused massive amounts of damage, both to your Death Eater family, and to your  _blood_  family… and I do not mean only myself. Do you recognize your fault?"

The Potion Master's shoulders stiffened at the Dark Lord's words. He had not expected his father to take this tact with him. His mind flashed a memory of saturated green eyes, and he could not determine if the guilt he felt was for Harry or for Lily. Severus took a deep breath through his nose. Both. He felt guilt for them both. Severus would not have felt any real guilt for the disloyalty charge he thought he was up for. But this…? It was then that he fully submitted himself to whatever punishment he was to be given.

Severus prostrated himself on the frigid marble in acknowledgement of personal culpability.

"I do recognize my fault, My Lord," Severus entoned, fully feeling the weight of the ritual words as the magic began to knit across his skin, "How may I atone for my carelessness?"

Voldemort pulled his wand from somewhere inside his robes and stepped down from the dais. He strode around Severus' body, gestured Lucius forward, and used his wand to open all of the massive windows along the outside wall of the meeting hall. A cool afternoon breeze filtered through the crowd, and Severus shivered.

"Atonement will be given by practicing caution. You will move three pounds of ashes with a teaspoon across this meeting hall from one cauldron-" The Dark Lord summoned one of the cauldrons and placed it down in between Lucius and Severus. As he summoned the other, presumably empty, cauldron into his hand, Voldemort continued, "To the other, which will be placed at the far end of the hall. When you have finished, your task overseer will cast a Gathering Charm on the floors. If any of the ashes have fallen, you were not practicing enough caution and you will start again until you have learned the meaning. You may not begin again unless your first cauldron is completely cleared. You will have twenty-four hours to accomplish this task. If you cannot manage it by then you will continue until your task overseer has decided you have learned the lesson no matter how long that may be. You will not use any magic. Overseer, your arm."

The Malfoy Lord rolled up his right sleeve and offered his arm to the Dark Lord with a grim look. Voldemort took it in hand and placed the tip of his wand on the inside of Lucius' wrist.

"Will you watch your fellow vassal to ensure that he stays true to the path of his atonement set by your Lord?"

"I will, my Lord," Lucius answered. Where the wand met Lucius' pale skin it glowed a silvery white and wrapped around his wrist slowly. Voldemort lifted his wand from the blonde's arm and the silvery spell followed the thin wood until it touched the back of Severus' neck and wrapped around his throat like it had Lucius' arm.

The feeling of the spell settling made Severus shiver uncomfortably. It felt cold and heavy.

"Then you shall watch until absolution is reached," the Dark Lord intoned, "Severus. Begin your task."

Severus stood from where he had laid himself out on the floor and turned toward the cauldron. Sitting precariously on the edge was a teaspoon. Severus frowned, bent over, and plucked up the silver. He pushed the utensil into the ashes and went to stand up again. The breeze fluttered through the open windows and slid past the crowd standing around him and watching.

Half of the spoonful caught in the wind and drifted to the floor.

Voldemort raised both eyebrows and looked Severus over. Then he turned with the empty cauldron and started for the back of the room, tossing over his shoulder, "Looks like you're going to be here a while, Lucius."

* * *

Harry rode Rodolphus' shoulders right back out of the meeting hall once the punishment started. Bellatrix skipped beside them, holding the older wizard's hand and humming a lullaby Harry found frankly a little creepy.

"So how long does he have to do that for?" Harry asked once they'd made it into the entrance hall, "seems like an endless and kinda pointless exercise."

Bella laughed and nudged Harry's leg where it hung off Rodolphus, "That's the point. The punishment always has something to do with whatever you did wrong, but it isn't meant to be anything but a punishment."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry frowned. They stopped and Rodolphus reached up to grasp Harry around the waist again. Much like the ascent, the man set Harry down in one fluid movement.

"If it had a point it would feel like you were at least doing productive work, which is something one might feel pride over," Rodolphus told him in his rumbling voice, "The work one does in an honor punishment is meaningless to remind us that we are doing it only because of the wrong we have committed."

"I guess that makes sense," Harry mumbled. Remembering the spell that bound Lord Malfoy to his father, the boy asked next, "What about that silver spell? What does it do?"

"A temporary slave link," Bellatrix smirked darkly.

"What?!" Harry squawked.

"Don't worry," Rod replied, shooting Bella an exasperated look and patting Harry's wild hair firmly, "It goes away at the end ceremony. The spell just allows Lucius to know if your father tries to shirk his task, and for Lucius to give Severus energy when the lack of food kicks in."

"Lack of food!?" Harry gasped, "You mean he doesn't get to rest or eat?!"

"Nope!" Bella giggled, "Even being able to eat himself, Luci will probably have them both surviving off Pepper-Up before it's finished!"

"That's horrible!" Harry frowned, hugging his arms around his middle.

"Do not fret so," Rodolphus told the boy, "With Lucius as the Overseer it's unlikely to last more than three days, Harry. Your father knew this was a possible situation when he joined the Dark Lord's service, and he will not die from it. It's in the contract."

"These contracts sure are a lot of trouble," Harry grumbled under his breath. He sighed and looked up the grand staircase, "I suppose I should go work on the golems to keep my mind off of it all…"

" _Golems_!?" Bellatrix shrieked in delight, "Oh! Let Auntie Bella help you!"

Harry smiled timidly and have her a consenting nod. He'd never had an Auntie help him with a project before.

This family was absolutely nuts… but he liked it much better than the one he had been stuck with before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hey guys~ If my regular posting cuts out for a while I apologize. I live in the West and the fires might require us to evacuate eventually.
> 
> I had some fun writing this chapter even though it was a little more serious. This was an important piece to get out of the way before we could move on. I decided that it needed to be on it's own rather than with a couple of other events I was going to throw in.
> 
> No Beta, yet again.


	14. Mud, Ash, and Stone

It turned out that Auntie Bella was quite possibly the worst help in Alchemy one could ever be. It was really very impressive, Harry thought, that she could manage to get regular old dirt to just explode like that.

"Bellatrix, just let the boy do it himself," Luckily Rodolphus decided to follow them up to the Alchemy lab for lack of anything better to do. The older wizard was leaned up against the wall by the door looking both amused and exasperated with his wife "There will be less volatile results that way. You can talk to him without touching anything."

Bella huffed, and slung herself down sideways in the tall stool beside the work table.

" _Fine_ ," She glared at Rod and crossed her arms, "I'll let him do  _all_ the work."

Harry grinned at her antics as he started cleaning up the mess, "I told you, you've got to do the cleansing first, Auntie Bella. Alchemy is all about the whole purifying thing."

"Yes, well…" She sniffed, "I didn't expect it to blow up if I didn't."

"You could do it now and try again," Harry suggested, dumping a handful of dirt into the bucket it was supposed to be stored in. Bella wrinkled up her nose and eyed the boy's dirty hands.

"That's alright," She told him with a dismissive wave, "Rod is right. I just wanted to talk to you anyway."

Harry frowned and shot her a suspicious look as he began to set back up the work table, "Why would you want to talk to  _me_?"

Bellatrix looked flabbergasted for a moment. Then she grinned at him with an odd sparkle in her dark eyes and cooed, "Why wouldn't I? You're an adorable little boy. Any aspiring mother would want to snap you up in a heartbeat."

" _You_? A  _mother_?" Harry asked, raising a dubious eyebrow.

Bella reached around and smacked the back of his head playfully, "Oh, shut up."

Harry grinned widely, then grabbed a silver trowel and leveled out three exact scoops of dirt from his bucket. He dumped them in a circle on the middle of the work table, and then set the trowel back into the bucket. Harry grabbed the little silver bowl of salt water sitting at the back of the table and gave Bellatrix an enquiring look.

"So?" He asked, sticking three of his fingers in the slightly chilly water.

Harry started to flick the salt water into the dirt circle and Bella sighed heavily.

" _Fine_ , brat," She grumbled, "How did you find out the Dark Lord was your grandfather?"

Harry frowned, but didn't stop his flicking, "Well… He, my grandfather, that is, came to Hogwarts this year to get a hold of something. I went down to try and stop him at first because my friends dragged me into it, and none of the adults believed us about it. Anyway, he told me about Professor Snape being my dad, and I didn't believe him, but he said he wouldn't kill me if I didn't actively oppose him."

Bellatrix scowled thoughtfully, "Why not?"

"Apparently there's a addition to Inner Circle contracts about heirs and killing them," Harry shrugged, narrowing his eyes at the steadily more muddy dirt, "I was a baby when he tried to kill me and couldn't actively oppose him or whatever. That's how he became a wraith for a bit."

Bella froze. When she spoke her voice was hollow, "You're Harry Potter?"

Harry stopped flicking water and looked at her from the side of his eye. Her face gave nothing away, and Harry sighed, "In name, I guess."

"So it was  _Severus' fault_  our Lord disappeared, then," Bellatrix snarled, "That turn-coat  _bast-_ "

"No, no, no," Harry interrupted quickly, shaking his head in earnest, "Grandfather used that truth potion thing and he didn't know I was his kid."

Bella frowned, looking very confused, "He didn't know?"

"Nope," Harry popped, going back to flicking water, "Not a clue. Apparently my mum hid me from him. Anyway… So Grandfather took us to the bank to get everything figured out with that and the goblins told us I was second in line for all of Grandfather's titles. He was livid. I thought he'd burst a blood vessel or something, honestly."

"That man's always angry," Rodolphus snorted quietly from the door. Then his face went serious and his eyes widened, "Don't tell him I said that."

Bellatrix glared daggers at the man, but Harry just grinned, "I've noticed. No worries. Right, so they did the blood test thing and it showed him as my Grandfather and dad's father. Apparently Grandmother hid father from him also. So I asked if we have a family curse. And that's the whole story."

"You're joking," Bella breathed out, shaking her head and sending her hair everywhere, "What did they say about the curse?"

"They didn't, but I think there is one, even if they don't," Harry laughed. He put down the little bowl and shoved his hands into the thick clay-like mud he'd made, kneading it forcefully into a large ball, "It's kind of unbelievable otherwise, don't you think?"

Bellatrix shrugged and slumped down in the stool, "Most likely."

"So why don't you and my dad get along?" Harry asked, changing the subject as he pinched off a chunk of the mud to start shaping into an arm.

Bella scowled and stood so fast the stool she had been perched on fell over with a loud bang.

"He betrayed my Lord to Dumbledore!" She exclaimed. The level of her voice bordered on a screech, and her face was flushed, "He's a traitor! I just know it! Otherwise he would have gone to Azkaban with the rest of the Dark Lord's faithful instead of letting that old goat get him out of it! He should've been proud to serve our Lord!"

Harry frowned, but didn't look up. He started to roll out delicate little clay-mud fingers.  
Bellatrix panted heavily into the tense air for a minute or so before she finally picked the stool back up and sat down heavily.

"He isn't though," Harry told her quietly, putting the mud fingers aside and pinching off enough from the ball to make another arm.

"How do  _you_  know?" Bella asked gruffly, crossing her arms across her chest childishly.

Harry shrugged, "Grandfather found out that the Headmaster has been giving him fake memories... and making him take a potion and then taking away the memories of it happening. It's really messed up. They don't know how many of those fake memories he has yet. That's why his punishment is for 'carelessness' instead of for being a traitor, I think."

Bellatrix frowned and stared at Harry in silence for a moment. Harry was just starting to roll out a leg when she finally mumbled, "Perhaps… We'll see."

* * *

Severus had been working at his task for almost three disgusting, feet-aching hours before Lucius finally broke down and started speaking to him.

"I thought we were friends, you know," The blonde started nonchalantly, strolling slightly in front of him as Severus took small steps and attempted to shield the blasted spoon from the breeze still blowing in from the open windows.

The Potions Master frowned, eyes still watching the slight shift of the ashes as he walked, "What are you talking about, Lucius?"

"You could have told me the Dark Lord was your father," The blonde told him, strolling along as if he hadn't said anything completely ridiculous at all. Severus scowled and looked up for only a moment to glare heatedly at the Malfoy Lord's back.

"Lucius… I didn't bloody know," He bit out, more than a little frustrated. A few ashes fluttered off the top of the spoonful and Severus let out a low growl.

The blonde wizard spun around, walking backwards and sneering severely, " _How could you have not?_  The man always coddled you over everyone else. The only one he showed the same attention too was Bella."

Severus spared a second to give the man a disbelieving look, not stopping his slow walk forward, "That is  _absurd_. He treated me no differently than anyone else."

"No?" Lucius asked incredulously, "Then why didn't he make you go on raids with everyone else, hm? And he paid for your Mastery without even a second thought, whereas anyone else would have had to barter for months to get him to do such a thing. Not to mention all the private training you received from him. He let you do or have whatever you asked for."

"He forced me on raids sometimes," Severus grumbled defensively.

Lucius scoffed and turned back around to walk forewards again, "Yes. After he started to lose his mind to an even greater degree than he had already."

Severus frowned. As they finally came to the empty cauldron, he let out a sigh and dumped the spoonful of ashes deep inside the belly of the iron pot.

"Lucius…" He started, turning to go back for more ash. The blonde wizard kept his face neutral, but walked back beside Severus. A promising sign, "He didn't know any more than I did. The Dark Lord was apparently… fond of my mother. Anything you feel he gave me unfairly is likely the result of that… fondness. Or because he found me genuinely useful."

The Malfoy Lord frowned and looked at Severus from the corner of his eye. They walked in silence for a while after that. When Severus finally made it back to the cauldron full of ash and turned around to begin the walk back with his leveled spoonful of cinders, the blonde finally gave a sigh.

"Alright," Lucius pouted, an action he'd never admit too, "Fine. I believe you."

"Thank you," Severus replied drily, dark eyes now focused on his spoon, "Friends, then?"

The corner of Lucius' mouth twitched up for a second, "I suppose so. It would be a bit of a faux pas to feud with my Lord's heir."

Severus snorted and all the ash in his spoon flew up into his face.

"Goddammit, Lucius!" He sputtered, coughing like mad, "Overseer's are not supposed to talk!"

Lucius laughed without any reservation.

* * *

After Severus' punishment had begun, Tom retreated to his office with instructions to all of the healthy and free Death Eaters to make themselves useful, and for the weak and wanted-by-the-law to rest and do whatever the blasted Healer's instructed them to. A good portion of them were basically children and needed to be told directly, unfortunately.

The Dark Lord had noticed on his way up, that his dear Bellatrix and her husband Rodolphus Lestrange followed Harry to the Alchemy lab. While he was grateful that Bella seemed to be in a good humor toward his grandson, he was a little… concerned that the state of his lab would be like a warzone by the time they finished. Dear Bella just was not made for exact sciences.

Tom shook his head as he swept into his empty office and made a beeline for his comfortable desk chair. He shouldn't worry. Rodolphus would keep her from doing too much damage. He hoped, anyway.

Once he had sat down, he took a few minutes to just rest on the soft leather and breathe. Tom hadn't really  _wanted_  to still go through with the punishment he had set at Severus' testing. Not with the new development of the false memories and compulsions… He hoped Lucius wouldn't keep Severus down there too long. It was probably for the best that Tom had switched out Bellatrix. The woman would've had Severus down there for a week at the least. Changing the reason for it also seemed to have helped some as far as Severus' attitude toward it.

Tom sighed heavily as he unlocked the drawer he'd hidden all his research in and started to pull his books, scrolls, and notes out to look through. There had to be something in all of this ridiculous parchment to pull forth specific spirits. Surely someone had thought of this already?

Some indeterminable amount of time into his search, the Dark Lord sat back with a sigh and rubbed long fingers over his eyelids. It really really should not be so hard to find something. Tom sighed and sat back up, blinking the lights flashing about the corners of his eyes from the pressure away. He frowned over the dismal state of his desk. What a mess…

Then he froze. One of his books had fallen open after being tossed to the side of his desk for another. There was a crude ink drawing of a very familiar ring from various angles on one side. Curious, Tom pulled the old book closer and stared at the drawings for a moment. Slowly, his eyes slid over to the text on the other side.

"The Resurrection Stone," Tom read the title under his breath disbelievingly, "Surely not… It's just a family heirloom… and a fairy story... "

As he read further and further down the page, however, Tom was becoming more and more convinced. His stomach twisted unpleasantly, and he sat back in a most unDark Lord-like slump. Both hands covered his face and he groaned loudly.

"I cannot  _believe_  I made a horcrux from an ancient artifact made by Death itself," He moaned quietly, curling up in his seat, "This is a  _nightmare…_ "

But at least he knew exactly where to find what he needed to call Eileen and Lily Potter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hullo, there. No Beta per usual.
> 
> We're safe currently. :) I appreciate all your well wishes.
> 
> I did take the time to go back over the first two chapters today and edit them. There's nothing new added or anything, I just cleaned them up and made them a bit more easy to read. I'll likely do the same to chapters 3 and 4 tomorrow, but that shouldn't affect the posting of chapter 15 any. :)
> 
> So... Now Tom has figured out a great mystery. Should be hilarious to watch him deal with that. I'm rather glad I decided on Lucius as Overseer. I like the idea of him being a little like Draco when talking to friends. *shrug* Poor Bella is feeling a bit like the brother that stayed in the Prodigal Son parable, I'm afraid. Bless her heart.


	15. Mothers

In the end, it took three full days of walking back and forth with spoonfuls of ashes before Lucius finally decided Severus' task was finished. The blond wizard went to find the Dark Lord early the morning of the fourth day to notify him for the absolution and ending of the ritual. Severus waited until Malfoy had disappeared from the meeting hall before he heaved himself up on the massive dais and sprawled out on the cool stone in a most undignified manner.

He felt incredibly sore and absolutely disgusting. The intermittent breezes throughout his task had blown ashes all over the Potions Master. Severus' usually pristine black robes were powdered with grey cinders, and his hair was even dirtier than normal.

Severus sighed heavily and sat up. His dark eyes narrowed at the floor as he tried to think. The lack of food seemed to have muddled his mind a bit.

"First breakfast…" Severus mumbled to himself hoarsely, "Then a bath… and a long nap…"

The great wooden doors of the meeting hall opened a sliver and a familiar messy dark head peeked in.

"Dad?"

Severus sighed and nodded wearily, "You can come in, Harry… I'm finished…"

Harry smiled tentatively as he slid through the threshold. The boy sauntered in holding a small wicker basket and a silver pitcher. Severus eyed the youth's bounty curiously.

"I, uh… brought you some food," Harry's ears turned a bit pink at the tips and Severus was too tired to fight the smile that pulled at the corners of his mouth. The basket was sat beside the Potions Master, but the boy held on to the pitcher. The metal glistened with condensation in the morning light. Severus licked his dry lips involuntarily.

"Water?" Severus asked in a raspy voice, as he reached inside the basket for the tall crystal glass that lay snugly against the side.

"Yeah," Harry held it out so that Severus could fill his own glass. The older wizard was irritated to see that his arm trembled a bit from apparent low-blood sugar, "They said Lord Malfoy gave you water while you were down here, but I wasn't sure how much. I was going to get you some tea, but I figured water would be better."

Severus nodded and handed the pitcher back to Harry. He lifted the glass to his lips and swallowed its contents in large noisy gulps. A few drops spilled from the sides of Severus' mouth in the process, necessitating a wipe with one of his grimy hands. The glass was smudged with grey fingerprints when he sat it on the dais.

"Thank you," he sighed, reaching for the basket again. There was a bowl of porridge kept warm under one of the elves' stasis charms and a silver spoon that he retrieved shakily. Severus took a few mouthfuls before asking, "What kind of trouble have you been getting up to while I've been down here?"

Harry huffed and crossed his arms across his thin chest, "I've not been in any trouble at all!"

Severus lifted a disbelieving eyebrow at the boy and took another bite of the sweetened porridge.

" _Really_!" Harry frowned and rolled his eyes, "I did lessons with Grandfather in the mornings, and worked on my golems in the afternoons while I listened to Auntie Bella ramble on about the things you two used to fight over when you first joined. The golems are finished now."

"Already?" Severus asked, scraping the spoon along the bottom of his bowl and studiously ignoring the comment about Bellatrix, "I thought they took longer to complete?"

Harry shrugged and reached into the basket to pull out one of the shiny red apples, "Well, to complete, maybe… but Grandfather told me not to give them life yet, so they're as done as  _I_  can make them."

The older wizard nodded and sat the empty bowl back into the basket, feeling quite full already. A loud creak echoed around the room as the meeting hall doors opened again to admit Voldemort and an exhausted Malfoy Lord.

"I had thought Lucius looked rough, but  _you_  look like a recently unearthed inferi, Severus," The Dark Lord smirked as he strode toward the dais. Severus glared half-heartedly at the man, "Do stand back up. The ritual must be finished."

The Potions Master pushed himself off the cold stone. He stumbled a bit on his dismount as sharp pain shot through the bones of his feet and knees. Perhaps not surprisingly, Harry lurched forward to grab Severus' arm in an attempt to keep him from falling.

Severus scowled. Voldemort's smirk widened, but he said nothing, instead holding out his hand for Lucius' left arm.

A quick summoning of everyone in the manor later, and Severus was once again lying prostrate on the floor in front of the Dark Lord and beside Lucius. The grumbling mass of half awake Death Eaters positioned around the three of them shuffled about listlessly with cups of tea and mugs of coffee. Absolutely no one wanted to be in the meeting hall that morning.

Voldemort took Lucius' right arm this time, and pressed the tip of his wand to the blond wizard's wrist yet again. The bright silver spell light flared up again where they touched.

"Overseer, you were tasked with making sure your fellow vassal earned atonement. Under your watch has Severus faltered in his task?" The Dark Lord began the ending ritual.

"He has not faltered, My Lord," Lucius answered firmly.

Voldemort gave a grim nod and lifted his wand, releasing the spell from the Malfoy Lord's wrist. The link gathered around the end of his wand thickly as he turned to press the wood against the back of Severus' neck. The spelled collar shimmered to life around the kneeling man's throat.

"Has Severus earned his absolution under the stipulations put forth by your lord, Overseer?" The Dark Lord asked neutrally.

"He has earned his absolution, My Lord," The blond wizard answered quietly.

"Severus, under the judgement of your peers and your sworn Lord, you are absolved," Voldemort intoned, lifting his wand from the back of Severus' neck and ending the spell completely, "You may rise and return to your place. Remember this lesson and do not sully your honor in the same way again."

The Potions Master stood slowly, legs trembling a little. Already they were crawling with pins and needles. Severus couldn't wait to escape to his soft bed. The thought of climbing the stairs necessary to get to it almost made him groan out loud.

"Thank you, My Lord," He mumbled, bowing slightly at the waist and moving back into the circle beyond them.

* * *

Around lunch time that same day Tom had retreated to his office. Harry had taken a stumbling Severus up to his rooms, and he had a feeling that the two of them would end up distracted enough for Tom to get down to work on his family project.

Two of the golems Harry had brought to him yesterday evening were wrapped in soft cheese cloth on his desk. He had been pleasantly surprised at how delicate but strong the boy had made them. Harry could quite easily become an artist in Tom's mind.

They both stood at about 26 inches tall, with thin pale skin stretched over proportional limbs and angular faces. Blue veins ran through them like marbling, and their heads weren't overly large or awkward. Tom actually found them almost beautiful. Like little dolls. If only they had hair.

He sighed and lifted the slim golems from the desk in one arm. Their cold bodies leaned against his shoulder heavily. With the other hand, Tom opened a locked drawer and rifled around inside until he found the horcrux ring he'd retrieved from the Gaunt shack the day previous. He slipped the gaudy thing into his robe pocket and pulled out his wand.

With a sharp turn, the dark wizard Apparated from his office to his private ritual room in the basement. No need to rouse suspicion by traipsing around with empty golems, after all. His followers wouldn't question Lord Voldemort, but Harry might get curious and attempt to come down with him. Tom did  _so_  want this to be a surprise.

The cavernous dark space had already been set up the night before with an elaborate, chalk-drawn, seven pointed star within a perfect circle of numerous tallow candles. The Dark Lord stepped over the candles carefully, lifting his robes just high enough to avoid their flickering flames.

Once he set foot within the circle, ancient magic rumbled up from the earth to meet him. The heavy, slow energy felt soothing, and Tom felt himself relax as he took several steps to the middle of the circle.

Moving slowly to avoid the tight lines of the star, Tom gently lay the two vacant golems carefully into the center. After a moment's consideration, the Dark Lord drew his wand and uncovered the golems' faces. A little transfiguration turned the cheesecloth covers into long soft dresses, heavy robes, and thick socks.

"I should've had shoes made…" He sighed. Tom shoved his hand into the pocket of his robes and pulled out the ring. Red eyes narrowed on the glimmering gold band, "You had better work."

Tom reached down and placed his wand against one of the golem's thin little chests. Concentrating hard on his beloved Eileen, Tom spun the ring in his hand three times. The Stone shuddered with magic and Tom clasped on to it with his own, channeling the coming spirit from the Stone into the empty golem.

The little body shuddered and gasped as Eileen's spirit took hold within in it. The thin ivory skin bubbled and shifted into a miniature version of her face. Long countenance, high cheekbones, and the Prince nose. Silken ebony hair sprouted from the top of her head, growing in a most disturbing fashion until it stopped around waist length. Inky black brows and lashes grew in at the same time. Finally, the tiny body arched up under the point of Tom's wand and groaned before thudding back to the ground.

Glistening dark eyes fluttered open slowly. Tom held his breath, watching her consciousness awaken.

"Where…" She mumbled, gazing around tiredly. Her gaze stopped as she caught sight of the Dark Lord, "...Tom?"

"Eileen," Tom exhaled. A stupid grin was threatening to spill onto his face, "It  _worked_."

"What worked…?" Eileen frowned and furrowed her brow in confusion, "Why are you so big…?"

"I brought you back," Tom told her, no longer able to keep from smiling. Her frown deepened at his expression, "From the dead, Eileen. You're  _alive_  again."

Eileen jerked up from the floor, and brought delicate hands to her face. The miniature fingers danced over her features frantically, "What did you do to me, Tom?!"

Tom frowned and eyed her warily, "Well… I had to summon you into a golem first. But don't worry! I know a ritual to put you back into your own body. We'll just have to collect somethings first… and the golem is really, very pretty. Our grandson made them."

The small woman froze. Slowly she lowered her hands and stood up shakily. Eileen came to about the height of Tom's head while he crouched.

" _Grandson_ …? You found out about Severus…?" She swallowed nervously and pulled at a strand of her lank dark hair.

"Yes. It's… a  _very_  long and ridiculous story that I shall tell you about shortly," Tom told her with a frown. He pointed a pale finger to the ground beside her, "As for our grandson, I actually need to summon his mother into that other golem there. If you'd step out of the center I can finish up."

"Who is his mother?" Eileen narrowed her dark eyes, "And  _why_  is she dead?"

"Well," Tom cleared his throat awkwardly. He could feel heat simmering across his cheekbones. This woman was the only one that could make him feel embarrassed for killing someone, "Her name is Lily Potter, but I believe it had been… Evans before."

"Oh,  _Lily_!" Eileen smiled happily and clapped her hands in front of her chest, "I knew Severus was sweet on that lovely girl… Wait.  _Potter_? Did she marry someone else?"

"We can ask her about that later. I don't know the whole story in that respect," Tom sighed and rolled his bone white wand around in his hand.

"How did she die, Tom?"

"...I killed her."

" _Why_?!" Eileen exclaimed, somehow managing to project a completely intimidating aura with her two foot and two inch tall frame.

"Well… There had been a prophecy. Actually… it turned out to be a fake prophecy," Tom admitted with a cringe, "I didn't know, Eileen. I really didn't know that the boy was my grandson."

" _Tom_ ," Eileen growled, planting compact fists on her hips angrily, "Make sense and  _quickly_."

"Dumbledore set a trap for me using Severus and our grandson," Tom grumbled and crossed his arms over his chest defensively, "He knew Harry was Severus' son and used my Inner Circle's contracts against me."

" _Inner Circle_!" Eileen's voice rose and Tom's eyes widened in alarm, "You  _Marked_  my baby?!"

"I didn't know, Eileen! I swear!" Tom tried to placate the frightening little woman, "You  _hid_  him from me! How could I have known?!"

"Tom Marvolo Riddle, if you hurt my baby I'm going to remove your entire skin inch by inch!" Eileen shrieked. Her dark eyes glittered with furious indignation, and her pale face flushed angrily.

"I-" Tom shuddered and looked at the other empty golem on the floor. Obviously deflecting, he nodded at it, "Let me finish this and we can go up and speak to him, alright?"

Eileen's glare darkened. Pointedly, she stepped out of the star's middle and turned to stand beside Tom's crouching form, "Do  _not_  think you are getting out of this."

Tom did his best to ignore the fuming woman. Instead of answering, the Dark Lord placed his wand against the last golem's chest. Focused on the bright young woman he had struck down nearly eleven years ago now, Tom turned the ring in his hand three times. As before the spirit gathered first into the Stone, and Tom grasped it, shoving it into the waiting golem.

Eileen gasped softly at his side when the body shuddered. Cold little hands grasped at his forearm as the skin of the golem seemed to boil and shift into the fiery but soft features of Lily Evans Potter. Thick auburn hair grew rapidly from the golem's scalp, and Eileen shivered against his side at the admittedly disturbing sight.

Soon, the newly inhabited golem arched underneath the point of his wand and gasped it's first breath loudly. The same bright green eyes Harry had inherited blinked lazily to life, and Tom removed his wand slowly.

"Lily, dear?" Eileen questioned, letting go of Tom's arm. She moved to sit beside the stiff redheaded woman, and brushed hair from her eyes kindly.

"Mrs. Snape…?" Lily asked, furrowing her brow in confusion, "I thought you had died…?"

Eileen nodded and spared a moment to glare irritatedly in Tom's direction, "Yes, well… Unfortunately I fell in love with a complete maniac when I was young and now the both of us are alive yet again."

"Alive aga-," Lily shot up and grasped Eileen's hands in her's with a feverish panic, "Oh, Merlin! Harry! He was going to kill him! Did he die?! Where's my baby!?"

"Harry is perfectly fine, Mrs. Potter," Tom interrupted calmly, "He is upstairs with his father as we speak."

"Father?" For the first time, Lily turned to see the Dark Lord. He watched as she furrowed her brow at him in confusion, squinting as if trying to remember why he seemed so familiar. Then those verdant eyes caught the crimson of his own, and her face somehow managed to pale even further. She gasped, pulling Eileen to her in a very odd protective hold, " _You_!"

 "I will not harm you, Mrs. Potter," Tom smirked in obvious amusement, "I am the one that brought you  _back_... with some help from your son, in fact."

"What have you done to my Harry!?" Lily demanded, still in a panic. She released her crushing hold on Eileen a bit and tried to stand on trembling legs. They shook and gave out, and Lily fell back to the hard floor with a grunt.

Tom frowned, "I would not purposefully hurt my grandson, Mrs. Potter."

" _Grandson_?" Lily's nose wrinkled in indignant confusion.

"Yes. You see... Severus is  _my_  son. A fact hidden from me until  _recently_ ," Tom glared at Eileen, who refused to look even slightly contrite at his tone. The little dark haired woman sniffed derisively and straightened beside Lily, petting her red hair in a comforting manner before helping the younger woman stand, "It seems that he has inherited my unfortunate taste in women that like to hide offspring... As a result, you two have unintentionally caused quite a complicated situation that enabled Albus Dumbledore to manipulate myself into targeting my grandson by way of false prophecy."

Lily blinked up at him a few times, then turned to Eileen, who was still petting her hair.

"He's completely serious isn't he?" She asked the older woman in a trembling voice.

Eileen nodded, "Yes, dear, I'm afraid so…"

Tom shrugged and stood to his full height. He spared a moment to dust his robes off before he offered them each a very large, long, pale hand.

"We can discuss it more at length later. For now... how would you like to see your sons again?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all. Sunday morning I'm driving across the United States with my kids to visit family...so updates will be very slow for a bit. It'll take about a week to get down there, but I'll do my best to update while I'm down. Then it'll be another no update week while I drive back.
> 
> Thanks for your patience, guys. Ya'll are the best~


	16. Odd End to A Nap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hey~ I'm back. A short chapter to get me back in the swing of things. Longer note at the bottom.

“Dad!”

 

Severus scowled into his soft pillow and turned away from the urgent voice trying to wrest him from sleep. Cold little hands grabbed his shoulders and shook them slightly. A snarl escaped the Potion Master’s throat and he opened one heavy eyelid to glare at Harry from bed.

 

“ _ What _ ?” He grumbled irritably.

 

“Dad… I don’t know what he did…” Harry gasped, gripping at Severus’ shoulders tighter. His face was disturbingly pale in the halflight of the room and he was panting like he’d ran up all the stairs in the mansion, “You have to come look! It can’t be real!”

 

Severus frowned, but rolled over and slid out of bed quickly. Something in Harry’s voice bothered him deep in his soul. Whatever had happened to make the boy this anxious couldn’t be some little thing.

 

“He? Who?” Severus asked as he grabbed his fresh black robe from the post of the bed and shrugged it on.

 

“Grandfather!” Harry squeaked, “I saw them headed up the stairs! I thought I’d lost my mind, but they were there! It must have been the golems he did it with, but I don’t know why. I mean, I’ve only seen her once in a picture but-”

 

“Did what with? Her?” Severus cut in before the boy could start to babble. His stomach was beginning to roll in the most terrifying way. This was not boding well. Not at all.

 

Harry opened his mouth to reply, but just then there was a jarring knock at the door. Severus frowned and narrowed his dark eyes at the entrance to his rooms.

 

“He brought them up here,” Harry whispered in a tone Severus couldn’t quite place.

 

“Enter,” Severus answered the knock sharply.

 

The door opened suddenly, and the Potion Master had absolutely no time at all to prepare himself for what he was seeing. The Dark Lord stood in the threshold of the rooms, long pale arms spread out proudly and an odd grin on his face. Nothing all that new. However, Severus’ eyes traveled down to the man’s sides almost immediately. Beside the fiend stood two very small women. Two very small, very  _ familiar _ women.

 

“Harry!” The little red haired one gasped, rushing forward almost immediately to hug a sputtering eleven year old around his shaking knees. For a long moment, Severus just stared at her, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. What the actual hell had the man done now?!

 

“Lily?!” He finally choked out in a tone much higher than normal, “Mum?!”

 

“Severus,” The little woman that looked like his mother smiled warmly and followed Lily’s lead in hugging her son’s legs. Her little arms were warm and felt disturbingly human.

 

Slowly he sank down so that he could be close to eye level with the miniature Eileen. Severus ran a cold eye over her form before allowing himself to gently touch her face.

 

“What have you done?” He whispered under his breath. The blood in his veins seemed to be heating to the temperature of molten lava, and was rushing in his ears so loudly he could hardly hear. Louder, Severus asked again, “What have you done?!”

 

The little Eileen scowled at him in that same disapproving way she had when he was a boy, and the little wrinkle between her brows he remembered from those days was perfectly replicated, “You had better not be speaking to  _ me _ that way.”

 

Severus sputtered a moment before shooting a venomous glare at the Dark Lord, “I was speaking to  _ him _ .”

 

Voldemort sighed dramatically, shutting the door behind him as he swept into the room. The man dropped gracefully into one of the armchairs beside the fireplace, and placed his chin on his white hand almost petulantly.

 

“I put their souls into the golems,” The Dark Lord told them, “I thought it would help.”

 

“Help  _ what _ ?!” Severus shouted, standing up to his full height and clutching his fists so tight it felt like his nails had broken through the skin of his palms, “They’re two feet tall  _ at best! _ And they had  _ died _ ! Do you even know what kind of consequences might come of this kind of magic?! What were you  _ thinking _ ?!”

 

Voldemort frowned and flicked his scarlet eyes down at the little woman standing near Severus’ knees. Severus followed the glance and grimaced.

 

“I mean, not that I’m not glad to see you mum, it’s just that-”

 

“Yes, yes,” She smiled, waving her hand dismissively, “It’s quite alright. Keep yelling at him. He deserves it.”

 

Severus choked a little on his response.

 

“My God, is my entire family out to get me?” The Dark Lord sneered, “Ungrateful little heathens.”

 

“I like you, Grandfather,” came Harry’s voice from somewhere over Severus’ shoulder. A surprised noise came from the little Lily and Severus jerked around to really look at her for the first time.

 

An oddly light feeling swept through him at the sight of her vibrant green eyes, filled with fire again. Her deep red hair caught in the light and turned almost gold in it, and she was running living hands over their kneeling son feverishly like he might suddenly disappear if she stopped touching him with those thin little fingers.

 

“You like him…?” She whispered softly, her brows furrowed and a grimace scrunched up her face.

 

“Well, I mean… I don’t like that he killed you, but... “ Harry frowned, “He’s been a good grandfather since he found out. Better than Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon anyway.”

 

The tiny hands froze in their petting, and Lily’s face went into the curiously blank expression she got before she exploded into a temper. Severus took an involuntary step back as she turned away from Harry slowly and fixed a glare on him black enough to rival his own.

“ _ Who _ ,” She snarled, “Put my baby with  _ Petunia _ ?”

 

Severus cleared his throat and looked up at Harry. The boy was frowning thoughtfully at the back of his mother’s small head and paid his father no attention whatsoever.

 

“It…” Severus started and then cleared his throat again, “Dumbledore put him with her.”

 

“WHAT?!” Little Lily shrieked, “He was there when we wrote our wills! He had to take them to the Ministry for us because we couldn’t leave the house! He  _ knew _ Harry was  _ never _ supposed to go to Petunia!”

 

Harry blinked slowly behind her, his brows furrowing in the exact same way as Lily’s, “...I wasn’t?”

 

Lily whipped around, taking the boy’s face in those little hands and pulling him toward her, “Oh, no no no, baby. Never! I’m so sorry. I don’t know how this could’ve happened. I’m so sorry.”

 

“He mostly likely never took the wills up to the Ministry,” The Dark Lord mused quietly. His robes rustled as he stood from the armchair and swept closer to them all, “Or he re-wrote them beforehand. It would take at least a night, but I could find out.”

 

Lily looked up at Voldemort with a grim expression and her little mouth pressed into a tight line, “Please… uhm… what do I call you? I fear The Dark Lord is...”

 

Voldemort frowned and gave an awkward nod, “Too formal, since I’ve killed you, brought you back to life, and you’ve born me a grandson?”

 

“I was going to say ‘inappropriate’,” Lily deadpanned, her green eyes half shutting in a very cold look.

 

“Right,” The Dark Lord allowed, not flustered in the slightest by the tiny woman’s brazenness. The older man looked down at Eileen and frowned in thought, “I suppose… You may call me Voldemort.”

 

Harry snorted. Every face in the room turned to the now giggling boy.

 

“This is the weirdest family ever.”

 

Severus frowned and looked down at Lily, “That reminds me… We have some things we need to discuss.”

 

She nodded and pointed one pale diminutive finger at the door, her face giving nothing away at all, “Of course, Severus. Outside?”

 

Severus didn’t answer. He turned toward the entrance and swept out, holding the wooden door open behind him for the golem-bodied witch to follow him.

 

“May we use your office?” The Potion Master asked his father  _ almost _ politely.

 

The older man’s lips stretched a little in a strangely innocent smile. It was unsettling to see such an expression on the Dark Lord’s face, “You may.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I have received a hilarious number of comments that were surprised that I brought back Eileen and Lily or said that it was unbelievable. I did let on that I was going to do it for quite some time, so I'm a little tickled at the surprise. As for the unbelievable bit, I openly state in the summary that this is a crack fic. :) I'm not really going for believable. Merely taking a serious-ish approach to what crackfics are normally taken at.
> 
> Anyway, for those who left, thanks for reading up till then, and to those still reading, thank you for continuing on!


	17. Conversations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Another short because I felt it needed to be done. I plan on a longer one tomorrow. Lily and Eileen will have to be explained to the bunches of Death Eaters in the house, and I'm sure I'll fit another meal in. Those are always fun to write.
> 
> Don't fret over Sev and Lily. They've some things to work out just like Tom and Sev. But they will eventually. Everyone's human after all, and they can recognize that. It just takes distance.

As soon as the office door clicked shut behind him, Severus was sinking to his knees beside little Lily. He was so very very tired, and the exhausted sigh he let out as his weight settled into a slump expressed the feeling succinctly.

"Why?" Severus asked her in a quiet, hollow tone of voice, "Why did you let me believe he was Potter's? Why did you leave me? Why, Lily?"

Her mouth turned down, and her brow furrowed in a slightly uncertain glare at him as she crossed her thin arms over her chest, "You were a Death Eater, Severus, and I was-  _am_  muggleborn. I couldn't chance that you wouldn't kill him for his mother's blood, or give him to your Dark Lord. I had to protect him and myself."

His blood settled cold in his veins, and Severus' voice reflected it as he bit out, "Is that what you thought? You told me you loved me, but you thought me capable of such evil?"

"Are you trying to tell me that you wouldn't have given Harry to Voldemort, Severus?" Lily's voice wavered a bit, "You were obsessed with the man. I did what I thought was right. I loved you, but I would not let my son into that if I could help it."

"A great lot of good that did," He sneered at the trembling little woman, "Now he's trapped here with me and the Dark Lord, isn't he? He wouldn't have had to sign a bloody contract into his service if you had told me until he was of age! I would have had time to get him away!"

Lily's eyes widened and her hands jumped to cover her mouth in horror, "He has a contract?! You let my baby become a Death Eater?!"

"I did no such thing!" He growled at her, looming a little over her slight frame. Severus caught himself mimicking the posture of his step-father and froze. Slowly he sat back and shook his head, "I'm sorry… that was… no. Lily, he signed it before I knew. I was not involved in anyway. I wish I could have had the chance to stop him. Truly."

The little white hands dropped down and Lily joined him on the floor in a similarly distressed slump, "What happened…? Why…?"

"The Dark Lord was going after the Philosopher's Stone and Harry tried to stop him-"

"Harry tried to stop Voldemort?" She asked in consternation.

Severus sighed and nodded tiredly, "In short, our boy is a Gryffindor."

Lily smiled widely at this and grabbed at her skirts, "Oh, Harry…"

"Yes," Severus sighed and rolled his eyes, "I've determined already he's to be the death of me. As I was saying. He tried to stop the Dark Lord, but the man had already somehow figured out Harry was my son and that the reason he was defeated that night was due to the clause in my contract. You didn't know it," he paused to narrow his eyes at her a little, "But there is a clause in  
Inner Circle contracts for the safety of heirs. It read a breach of contract when the Dark Lord tried to kill Harry."

Lily looked a little stunned, "So he did try?"

"Of course. Harry survived the Killing Curse with that little scar he has on his forehead," Severus rubbed his own forehead and sighed heavily again, "The Dark Lord had, or has rather, methods of immortality however, and survived as a wraith, until our clever idiot of a son gave him the Stone as I've told you."

Lily gave him a withering glare, likely for the "idiot" inclusion, but Severus ignored it and continued to stare at her unimpressed. Eventually she sighed and sat up a little straighter.

"You told me Tobias was your father," Lily huffed.

"I didn't know…" Severus told her with a shake of his head, "I had no idea until the Dark Lord made us go to the goblins to get Harry recognized as mine. I found out there with the two of them. We were all surprised by it. As surprised as I was to find out Harry was my own son, in fact."

He glared a little at her here, and she shrank down with a guilty look on her face. Lily looked so small on the floor of the office surrounded by the heavy wooden furniture that dwarfed her even further. Severus felt a stab of remorse with an origin he couldn't exactly name at the sight of her.

"I didn't love James, you know," She whispered softly. Severus stiffened and his eyes stopped on her anguished face, "I went to Albus when I found out I was pregnant… I told him my concerns… he arranged for me to stay with James, and… James was kind enough to help out. He took care of us while we were hidden. He became a good, dear friend, and I loved him as such... But I did not love him like I loved you."

Shining, hot tears gathered and spilt from the corners of her bright green eyes. Severus watched them slide down her flushed and lightly freckled cheeks, hardly processing the words she had spoken. It was ridiculous. Absolutely absurd that Lily should say such a thing to him. He had resigned himself to being unlovable the night she had left all those years ago, after all.

"I don't believe you," He told her tonelessly. Lily shook her head and went to speak, but before the words could leave her lips, Severus continued, "I believe that you went to Albus. That's how he knew to use you to dispatch the Dark Lord… I do not believe the rest, Lily."

Slowly, Severus stood up and opened the door. He took a heavy book from one of the shelves and dropped it on the floor with a thump to keep the door opened for whenever she decided to leave.

"Sev," Lily's choked and watery voice came from behind him, squeezing at his heart painfully.

"You are here for our son," He spoke lowly, feeling as if his words were being spoken by someone else and very far away, "He needs you."

Severus left the room quickly.

* * *

"So, you're our little Harry?" The little dark haired woman asked as the door shut behind Harry's parents. She had a soft kind of smile that reminded Harry of Professor McGonagall somehow. He smiled back at her nervously.

"Uhm, yes'mam."

"Eileen," She told him gently, walking closer on her short legs, "Your grandmother."

Something hot and tight caught in Harry's throat, and he grinned fully at her, "My own grandmum. Wow. Do you, uhm. Do you like the body I made? They were supposed to be for golems, or I would've made them bigger."

Eileen nodded and patted his cheek with her tiny soft hand. Her warm eyes were looking his face over with a touch of awe, "You did a marvelous job, dear. If Tom had told you I'm sure you would've done a wonderful job on a larger scale as well. Unfortunately, he does love tricking people."

Harry laughed near hysterically and shot a look up at the Dark Lord, who rolled his eyes and glared at the far wall. Eileen's smile widened and she took a small step back to continue looking him over.

A soft tsking noise issued from her mouth, and she shook her head.

"Just as thin as your father, and grandfather, dear," Eileen told him with a sigh, "There's no way to fatten you boys up, I've learned, but I'll try my best to put some meat on you."

Harry flushed crimson, but his heart tightened happily in his chest at her declaration. He'd never had anyone say anything like that to him before, "I'll eat anything you give me."

"Don't make promises you can't keep," The Dark Lord drawled from behind them with a smirk. Slowly, the tall man dropped down beside Harry and wrapped a long warm arm around the boy's thin shoulders, "She'll feed you horrible tasting things that are much too healthy for an eleven year old and you'll regret that promise."

Harry grinned and looked up at Voldemort with full sincerity, "I wouldn't. I'll be so happy my grandmum made it I won't care at all."

The Dark Lord frowned and squeezed Harry to him a little closer. Even though his expression was sad, Harry was so pleased that his grandfather was embracing him purposefully that he didn't comment on it. Instead he turned back to his tiny grandmum and took in her considering expression. When Eileen's eyes met Harry's they softened slightly and she smiled again.

"You're a lovely child," She told him, "Equal parts your mother and your father. I am happy I will get to know you as my grandson."

Harry's grin grew so much it almost hurt, and the tight feeling in his chest loosened and warmed him all the way through. It was a nice feeling, he decided, when your family actually liked you and wanted you around.


	18. Prone to Melancholy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This whole chapter is from Sev's POV! Whoa!
> 
> Promise I'll get funnier soon. Gotta get through some angst first.

Severus returned to his rooms to find that the rest of his family had not yet vacated them. With a sigh he held the heavy door open and ran a tired gaze over his tiny mother and strangely gentle looking father who was very uncharacteristically hugging his son. All of them had looked up when the door had clicked open, and judging by the looks on the three faces, Severus’ own countenance showed them that the conversation had not gone well.

 

“Dinner time, I think,” He told them tonelessly.

 

The Dark Lord nodded and stood, offering Harry his hand. The boy took it with a little smile, and Severus felt a frown move across his lips. Those two were bonding oddly fast. Perhaps it was time again for a talk with Harry. Just to figure out why, if for no other reason.

 

“We’ll take dinner in the family dining room,” Voldemort said with a smug look. He straightened his black robes and started forward, “I don’t want to deal with the other _children_ until tomorrow. Today has been too long already.”

 

Severus agreed silently, following after the man after he had swept past. Harry stood back, waiting on his little grandmother. The boy stopped just outside the door and looked over his shoulder, his bottom lip pulled under his teeth.

 

“Wait,” He asked quietly before he ran toward the open door of the Dark Lord’s office, presumably to retrieve his mother. They all stood waiting as he asked.

 

Severus’ own mother tugged at the edge of his robes. He gave a soft sigh and sank down to her level. Eileen’s dark eyes were filled with concern, and she gave a small ineffective comforting squeeze to Severus’ forearm.

 

“It didn’t go well…?” She inquired quietly.

 

“No,” Severus shook his head just slightly, “It didn’t. I… understand why she did it. It _was_ dangerous for both of them. I will not blame her for trying to protect Harry… but I am… She should have tried to speak with me about it all. She hurt me, mother.”

 

Eileen nodded dreamily and her eyes traveled slowly away from Severus’ face for a moment. She squeezed his forearm again and nodded more firmly, “Right. It is not wrong to be hurt by it son, but it is important that you remember that we are human and humans do make mistakes. You’ve made your fair share, I know. Do not brood on the past so heavily that you make your future darker. Even as a boy you were prone to melancholy.”

 

“I don’t know if I can forgive her,” He frowned at his mother. Eileen smiled and let her eyes flick up to look at the Dark Lord standing behind them.

 

“Oh, I’m not saying that’s totally necessary,” She chuckled, “Tom certainly has not forgiven me, have you?”

 

Voldemort scoffed and rolled his eyes, stepping up beside them.

 

“No. I _might_ forgive you,” He corrected imperiously and with a little smirk, “If your reasons are good enough, anyway. I can’t let anyone think I’m going soft. If they aren’t good enough, I simply won’t marry you.”

 

Eileen rolled her own eyes now, and pinched the bridge of her nose tightly, “God, give me strength…”

 

Severus felt some weird sense of embarrassment at that exchange and caught himself almost blushing before he forcefully turned his attention down the hall.

 

The thunderous sound of an eleven year old pounding quickly toward them blessedly broke up the conversation. Severus stood and let himself look over both his son and Lily, who was holding the boy’s hand like they were _both_ small children. Her nose and cheeks were ruddy with the fresh scrub she must have given them to remove her tears. The whites of her eyes were a little bloodshot, making the green of her irises even brighter, but she was smiling at Harry as if he were her whole world. That was the truth of it, Severus knew. He could count on her to be there for their son if nothing else.

 

Harry was panting, but he spared his grandfather and grandmother a grin. Severus himself received no look at all, and part of him worried over it just slightly.

 

“We’re ready!” The boy told them.

 

“Indeed, you are,” The Dark Lord smiled back, “Onward.”

 

With a swift turn on his heel the tall man lead the way down the hall and toward the grand staircase.

 

Severus stayed back, letting the other three walk in front of him. He watched as Harry offered both his arms to the two tiny women and practically skipped after Voldemort humming some lullabye he had gotten off of Bellatrix at some point. Severus’ eyes were near locked to the back of Lily’s head, watching her auburn hair bounce softly as she laughed breathlessly at Harry’s antics.

 

The emotions swirling around inside him refused to be caught and analyzed. The fact that Lily was alive kept returning over and over. It was an impossible thing. Absolutely inconceivable. He wasn’t at all sure what he was supposed to do with this situation. How had Harry and his father adjusted so bloody quickly?

 

When they arrived, Severus took his seat at the Dark Lord’s side, and was relieved that Harry took his own regular seat. The boy still had not looked at him, however, and Severus was beginning to feel incredibly apprehensive over it. Eileen took the seat across from Severus, and Lily the one across from Harry. He noticed that a fair number of books had been put into both of them so the small women could actually reach the table and found himself a little amused.

 

“Now!” Voldemort interjected almost giddily after he’d called for dinner service, “Let’s try and untangle this mess as a family, hm?”

 

“Are you sure that’s an intelligent idea?” Severus drawled, looking out at the man from under his brow.

 

“Of course it is,” The Dark Lord scowled back, “It’s much better to just rip off the band-aid than dwell on it and have possible misunderstandings. We’ll have few secrets in this family. If we’re all to be immortal I’ll have it no other way.”

 

“How…” Harry put in, frowning at his grandfather a little from behind Severus. The boy scooted forward a little and started again, “You know what a band-aid is?”

 

Voldemort’s scowl deepened and he leaned forward just as much so that the two of them were practically hovering over Severus, “ _Yes_. They were invented in 1920. I was born in 1926. Of course I know what a band-aid is.”

 

“But…” Harry’s brow furrowed in childlike confusion, “They’re a muggle thing?”

 

The Dark Lord bristled a little and opened his mouth, but before the words could leave his mouth Eileen had jumped in, causing them both to retreat back to the proper space.

 

“He was raised in a muggle orphanage,” She told them matter-of-factly. Studiously Eileen avoided eye contact with the man in question by moving around her silverware so that she could better reach it.

 

“ _Eileen_!” Voldemort growled at her, crimson eyes flashing in irritation.

 

Eileen shrugged unapologetically, and looked up at the fuming man with a sly smirk, “You _did_ say few secrets, Tom.”

 

“Did the muggle orphanage name you?” Harry asked with genuine curiosity. The question had the most curious effect on the Dark Lord. Severus had never before seen the man flush with embarrassment. In fact, he had been quite sure that the man was incapable of going red with anything but pure fury.

 

“No,” Voldemort ground out, never taking his glare off the now grinning Eileen, “My mother did.”

 

“After his muggle father,” Eileen stage whispered from behind a small pale hand.

 

The Dark Lord made an outrageous choking noise and gripped at the table.

 

“Wait… You’re a _half-blood_ and you advocate for the deaths of muggles and muggleborns?” Lily finally joined in, her face pulled up into a confused grimace tinged with mild disgust.

 

“ _No_!” Voldemort scowled. His red eyes flitted over to the side for a moment, then back to Lily, “I did for a while there, actually, but I was completely out of my mind, you understand. That wasn’t what I was trying to do originally. Things just got out of hand.”

 

“It wasn’t?” Lily asked with one disbelieving eyebrow arched.

 

“Nope,” Harry said, causing them all to look at him in surprise. The boy shrugged and reached for the steaming plate of potatoes that had just materialized from the kitchens, “He was trying to lessen contact with the muggle world in the beginning and then it got… uhm… fanatical.”

 

Voldemort looked uncomfortable, but nodded all the same, “Yes. Unfortunately my original means of immortality left me less mentally capable than I had realized. I am in process of putting the Death Eaters back on track, actually, for a political win rather than by war. I’ll certainly lose less men that way, and it will bring less muggle attention on us.”

 

“Why did you allow the Dementors free reign, in that case?” Severus sneered at the Dark Lord.

 

Voldemort lifted an eyebrow at him, and sneered back, “Because I still  _abhor_ muggles, _Severus_ , and the amount the Dementors will take will be inconsequential to their _sheer bloody numbers_.”

 

Severus’s sneer deepend as he sat forward, “Are you _still_ mad? That will send mixed messages to the fanatics you just rescued!”

 

“Severus is right,” Eileen cut in with a frown, “And stop trying to out sneer each other, would you? It’s turning my stomach. Eat, and then we can discuss what we are _all_ going to do. Yes, Tom, _all_ of us. You drug us one by one into this so now we get a say, too. If you want your family, you’ll do it correctly, hm? I’ve already suffered one miserable man, and I learned from that mistake. I _won’t_ do it again.”

 

The Dark Lord scowled at the tiny woman and pointed his fork at her with a snarl, “ _Fine_. And we’ll start with that _‘miserable man’_.”

 

“ _Fine_ ,” Eileen agreed with a huff, turning her attention to her meal.

 

They ate in tense silence after that. The only noises were the tinkling of silverware, glasses, and the occasional uncouth racket from Harry, who still had not managed to figure out how to eat quietly. As it continued, Severus found himself more and more irritated by the hushed sounds.

 

Halfway through, Severus pushed his plate away and sat straight backed in his seat, watching the rest of them finish. Tom and Eileen were eating very deliberately, obviously trying to ignore each other. Harry was completely and sincerely concentrated on his own plate.

 

He tried not to look at Lily, who kept trying to meet his wandering gaze between pushing around the remains of her own food and glancing at Harry. The boy was blissfully unaware, of course, and Severus found himself envious of his position in this madness.

 

Eventually the others pushed back their own plates.

 

“Now,” started Eileen, “Since I’ve been… gone the longest. I think I should start, hm?”

 

“Yes,” Severus frowned at his mother, “If you could begin with how the hell you two managed to have me?”

 

Eileen frowned disapprovingly at him, but obliged the question with a nod, “Tom and I dated in Hogwarts. He was three years ahead of me and I thought he was terribly charming for an older boy.”

 

Severus frowned, and the Dark Lord gave preening smirk at this admittance. Harry grinned and sat forward, once again almost in Severus’ lap. Taking the initiative and keen to stop the boy’s awkward hovering, Severus took him under his skinny arms and dumped the bony child into his lap.

 

Harry looked up at him for the first time since he’d gotten Lily from the office. His verdant eyes were startled and a little awed. The boy smiled a little shyly and then turned back to his grandparents, resting his tousled head on Severus breastbone. It was a little uncomfortable, but Severus was so relieved the child was looking at him again that he didn’t bother moving him around.

 

Lily’s eye caught his as he looked up from Harry’s settling form. Her face was soft with longing, and it tightened something in his chest. Quickly, Severus diverted his eyes to his father, who was continuing the narrative.

 

“I didn’t like her in the beginning. She was the only girl in the school that didn’t give a damn about what I was doing, and regularly told me I was being insufferable,” Tom shrugged.

 

“You’re still quite insufferable,” Eileen smiled fondly at him, “I still said yes when he finally decided in a fit of frustration to ask me down to Hogsmeade in my third year. We dated until I was out of Hogwarts. He was becoming steadily more unstable and I began to feel unsafe myself, however, and when I found out I was to have you, Severus, dear, I felt it was time to go.”

 

“And you married that muggle scum,” Tom growled out, his eyes flashing crimson and his lip curling up in anger.

 

“He was also quite charming at the time,” Eileen admitted quietly, “And I hadn’t much time for a believable time table if you weren’t to suspect Severus was yours.”

 

“And then you just stayed with him while he beat us and drank us into poverty?” Severus asked neutrally, “Just stayed with the bastard till he killed you? After you left… father for being unstable?”

 

Eileen sighed and sat back in her seat, “Yes. I did. Trying to make it work with Tobias was one of the worst mistakes I have ever made.”

 

“He hurt you?” Came Harry’s timid voice from Severus’ chest. He looked down to see his son looking incredibly distressed by this news.

 

“Yes,” Severus told him with a mirthless smile, “But it’s alright. I killed him in the end.”

 

“You did?” Eileen asked breathlessly.

 

“I did. As far as I’m concerned, it was the best thing I’ve ever done as a Death Eater,” Severus replied in a lazy drawl, “He deserved worse for what he did to us. What he did to you.”

 

The Dark Lord gave a small satisfied chuckle. When Eileen shot a look at him he grinned outright and nodded at Severus a little, “I don’t know how I missed that he is mine.”

 

“Me either,” Eileen admitted with a glare at the man, “Since we’ve managed to find ourselves on the subject… How did you manage to ensare our boy into your service?”

 

“Lucius brought him to me,” Tom shrugged, taking a sip from his wine, “He was obviously yours and I found myself… fond of him almost instantly.”

 

Severus’s brow furrowed at the admission and he adjusted Harry in his lap so that he could sit forward, “You were? Lucius said you weren’t as hard on me as the rest of them the other day…”

 

The Dark Lord looked uncomfortable at this, and covered it with a longer sip from his glass. He did not grace Severus with an answer.

 

Eileen, looking quite amused, nodded to Lily, “And you two also were together in Hogwarts?”

 

“Not exactly,” Lily answered quietly. Severus flushed and turned his face toward Voldemort. The only one in the room he knew would not look at him in disbelief or disapproval at the story he knew was coming next, “We had a falling out in fifth year… He was being bullied by James and the rest, and… he called me a mudblood in frustration.”

 

Harry went rigid in Severus’ arms. Slowly he looked up and Severus continued staring at Tom, who looked disturbingly and annoyingly amused.

 

“What… does that mean?” Harry asked in a measured tone. The searing gaze the boy was fixing him with seemed to burn through the side of Severus’ head.

 

“It’s… a slur,” Severus told him, finally looking down at the blank expression on the child’s face, “It’s a terrible thing to call a muggleborn. Absolutely vile…”

 

Harry nodded slowly and turned to Lily, “And you forgave him?”

 

“I did… but not until he’d practically camped out in front of the Gryffindor common room for a month trying to get me to talk to him,” Here they both went a little pink in embarrassment at this admittance of teenage idiocy, “We worked it out, anyway, but I was still quite wary because he was hanging around with that foul Mulciber and that Avery boy…”

 

Severus sighed softly as Harry relaxed a little in his hold and took up the story, “She saw the Mark on me a week after I’d received it, and it went downhill again from there… I had lost you both by the end of that Autumn. Though I had no inkling of you, Harry...”

 

Lily shook her head. Her bottom lip trembled a bit, but her voice stayed steady, “I didn’t believe it was safe for us…”

 

“That seems reasonable, actually.”

 

Severus’ head jerked back up and shot over to stare in disbelief at his father, who had, impossibly, said those words.

 

“ _What_?” Severus asked incredulously.

 

“It does,” The man frowned, taking another sip of his wine, “Honestly, Severus, think about it from her point of view. It was an intelligent decision, actually.”

 

“She still should’ve tried to speak to me!” Severus scowled, unconsciously hugging Harry closer to him. The boy squirmed a bit, but just let the man squeeze him, “Should’ve let me know what was happening so I could have done the right thing!”

 

“Are you sure you would’ve?” Tom asked with a raised eyebrow, “I had no idea you were my son. I would’ve killed you for trying to leave. Especially at that time. My mind was absolutely shot, and you know how I dealt with disloyalty then.”

 

Severus shuddered reflexively at the reminder, and turned to look at Lily. She was watching the Dark Lord with shocked, unblinking eyes. It _was_ quite odd that the man would agree with her in this. The emotions churned around confusingly inside him again, and Severus found himself petting Harry’s arm. As soon as he noticed the action, Severus stilled his hand.

 

“Why, exactly, did your mental health deteriorate, Tom?” Eileen interrupted.

 

The Dark Lord froze. His crimson eyes darted over to the boy in Severus’ lap for a brief moment before he looked to Eileen.

 

“Perhaps,” Tom mused quietly, “Harry should go up to bed.”


	19. What Is Remorse?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a bit late. I've been having a bit of a time making myself write. No beta, as usual.

"I'll take him up," Severus offered, recognizing this as both a moment he could gather his wits, and as an opportunity to ask Harry about the cold shoulder the boy had been giving earlier. He stood, not letting anyone answer and pulled Harry up with him, "Come on, son."

"I know where my room is," The boy scowled and pulled his shoulder out from under Severus' hand. Instead of leaving though, Harry went around to Lily and hugged her tiny frame as gently as he could. She smiled and pressed a kiss to the top of the boy's messy head.

"I think your father would like to talk to you," She whispered just loud enough for Severus to catch, "Listen to him, baby. I'll see you in the morning, okay?"

"Yes, mum," Harry mumbled. He gave her one last squeeze and pulled reluctantly away before he smiled disarmingly at both of his grandparents over her shoulder, "Goodnight, then. None of you kill each other while I'm asleep."

The Dark Lord scowled at the off-color joke and shooed the boy with the hand that wasn't holding his goblet of wine, "Goodnight, heathen child."

"Goodnight, grandson," Eileen chuckled lowly, and winked at Harry. The boy grinned wide and turned to practically skip out the door, leaving Severus to groan under his breath and follow after him.

A fair number of Death Eaters were roaming around the halls, so the journey up to Harry's room was spent in tense silence. Severus watched the boy studiously ignore his presence from the corner of his eye the whole way up to the family wing. As soon as the door had opened, Harry rushed to his dresser to pull out pajamas.

"Harry…" Severus frowned, observing the boy make rather a long procession out of finding his bottoms.

Harry kept looking though. The only sign he'd heard was the scowl that was slowly making its way across the boy's forehead, despite his obvious best efforts.

"Harry. Talk to me," Severus sighed, pulling out the chair at Harry's desk and sitting heavily.

The boy huffed and shut the dresser with a little more force than necessary. The scowl turned on Severus finally.

"You made her cry," He accused, "You said you loved her."

Severus stared at Harry for a long moment, trying to decide how best to talk to him about this. Harry didn't know what had happened. Only that his parents had gone to speak, and that when he had gone to get his mother she was crying. This sort of thing was a new territory for both of them.

"Come here," Severus ordered softly. Harry frowned and shuffled in place for a second before reluctantly obeying, and coming to stand at arm's length. Severus laid his long hands over the boy's small shoulders and pulled him just a little closer so that their eyes met, "Harry. I did not purposefully make your mother cry… I would never do that."

"So, then why was she crying?" Harry asked petulantly, but no longer quite so angry.

Severus exhaled softly and moved his hands from the boy's shoulders into his own lap.

"I believe…" He started, frowning down at his hands. Severus shook his head and looked up at Harry's face with an almost pained expression that he would normally school away, "Your mother would like me to forgive her for running off with James after you had been conceived."

"Won't you?" Harry whispered, his voice thick like he might cry.

"It is a very complicated situation, Harry…" Severus informed him with an awkward look around the room to keep from having to look the boy in the face.

"So we  _aren't_  going to be a family?" Harry's voice cracked a little and Severus frowned deeper and sat forward, pulling the child into his lap. The boy clung to the front of his robes and buried his head painfully against Severus' sternum.

"Harry," Severus said quietly, petting at the wild dark hair sticking up all over the boy's head, "Listen to me… No matter what happens between your mother and I… That does not affect that we love you. Even if we are not… with each other… We  _are_  with you. Do you understand that?"

"...So you're not going to get married?" Harry asked with a small voice from where it was buried in black robes.

Severus couldn't help but smile a little bit and shook his head, "I don't know. Definitely not right now. No."

Harry sat up, his eyes rimmed with red, and his nose rubbed pink. He sniffed and frowned up at Severus, "If you don't ever get back together will I have step-parents?"

Severus laughed out loud at that question, and Harry couldn't help but smile a little bit back, "I don't think your grandfather can afford to add more people to this pool of immortals he's made… So that's likely a no on this front. I cannot speak for your mother, however."

"Okay," Harry sniffed and rubbed at his nose with the cuff of his robe. Severus frowned at the action, but chose not to address it, "I'm sorry. I just don't want you to hurt each other."

"I know, Harry. I will do my best not to do so on purpose. I promise you that," Severus replied. He set the boy back down on the floor and stood up himself, "Go to sleep. I need to go and listen to this likely horrific story your grandfather has been sitting on."

Harry snorted a little and shook his head, "If it's not that bad, will you tell me?"

"It is most certainly ' _that bad_ '," Severus drawled, "But I will consider it."

"Thanks, Dad," Harry smiled up at him, "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Harry."

* * *

When Severus made it back to the family dining room there was another bottle of wine on the table beside the Dark Lord. The man was flushed across his cheekbones and nose, and was tapping the side of his goblet rhythmically as he watched Lily and Eileen converse about something in hushed voices.

It took a Severus actually sitting down at the table before anyone had even noticed he had come into the room.

"Are you  _drunk_?" Severus asked curiously. He arched a disbelieving brow at Voldemort.

"Do  _not_  judge  _me_ ," The Dark Lord sneered back, slurring a little.

Severus smirked, "Is what you have to tell us  _that_  bad?"

"Yes, Tom," Eileen put in, far more seriously. Slowly she turned from Lily to look at the man, "Is it  _that_  bad?"

Instead of answering the question, Voldemort ignored Eileen entirely and filled up Severus' own goblet. With a grim smile, the Dark Lord stage whispered to him, "You'll need that for your mother's reaction."

Severus frowned, but picked up his goblet and settled back into his chair.

"Get on with it, Tom," Eileen practically growled.

"Where do I start…" Voldemort sighed. He sat heavily back into his own chair and stared down the table with unfocused eyes, "I was sixteen, and terrified by the death I'd seen in the muggle war. I remember replaying feverishly in my mind that I was a wizard, and I wasn't going to die as a muggle like my mother had. I was above that. I  _am_  above that."

"You measure a person's worth by their ability to not  _die_?" Lily scowled. Her pale little fingers played with the edge of the table nervously, and Severus could tell she was trying very hard not to bite at her bottom lip.

"Of course. There is nothing more impressive," The Dark Lord snorted contemptuously, "You'll have noticed that those that have achieved it sit in this room, and sleep in Harry's bed. I respected the Flamel's for a time, but… well, they've had their method stolen, so how much respect can I have now?"

Severus shook his head and sighed, taking a long sip of his wine as he watched his mother's deceptively calm face. She was going to skin the man alive. He could just feel it.

"Someone stole the Philosopher's Stone?" She asked nonchalantly.

"I…" Voldemort cringed and sat down his goblet, "That is what I spent this year doing. That long ridiculous story I was telling you about… It begins there."

"What do you mean…" Lily asked softly, "That Harry is immortal?"

"He is. So are you," The Dark Lord smirked, turning his head up proudly. He seemed to be ignoring Eileen's death glare quite expertly, "So am I, obviously, and Severus, and Eileen. We are a family of immortals now. A family of impossibilities made possible."

"He didn't ask anyone," Severus told her quietly. She was looking quite green at the man including her in his family, "He never asks anyone."

" _Tom_ ," Eileen glowered, "What did you do originally? Stop getting off topic. We will discuss the rest later."

Voldemort seemed to deflate in his chair a bit. He crossed his arms across his chest and glowered right back at the fierce little woman. Leading them on no more, he spat out, "I split my soul and shoved it into things, okay?"

Stunned silence followed the gruff admission.

" _Things_?!" Severus gaped, crushing his goblet in a white fingered grip, "As in  _more than bloody one_?!"

" _Tom_!" Eileen exclaimed in unison with Lily's gasp of total horror.

"Yes…" The Dark Lord replied wearily, "More than one. Starting at sixteen. As I said."

"Am I to assume that every time your mental state deteriorated significantly it was because you had made another of these abominations?" Eileen asked. Her voice was so chilled it sent a shiver down Severus' spine. He almost felt bad for the man.

"Yes, Eileen," Voldemort answered, "You needn't tell me how bad a decision it was. I am entirely aware. Thank you."

"Don't try to shrug this off!" Eileen growled, "You need to get them back. How are you even speaking to us normally right now?"

"The Stone has a healing effect that has been keeping me at a relatively safe level of sanity," The Dark Lord told her. He pressed the long pale fingers of each hand firmly against the skin at his temples and frowned, "I must take it every six hours exactly, rather than the once a day you all must, or I begin deteriorating again… and I am not certain I  _can_  get them back."

"Why not?" Severus asked. He finished off his wine and set the goblet on to the table, his dark eyes narrowed at the other man, "What about all that you had just been going on about? 'A family of impossibilities made possible', you called us. Why not yet another impossible thing?"

"That's…" Tom sighed and pressed a little harder against his skull in frustration, "In order to absorb them back I must… feel remorse for the murders I committed to make them."

"That's it?" Eileen scoffed.

"I do not feel any remorse for it, Eileen," Tom told her firmly, looking up from under his brow, "Not at all."

"So…" Lily started softly. She blushed when they all looked to her expectantly. Lily cleared her throat and spoke a little louder, "So, we need to teach you how to feel remorse?"

Tom frowned at the redheaded witch thoughtfully for a moment. With a hesitant nod, he told her, "Yes. Empathy, I suppose. Or something of the sort. Though, logic may make me feel enough to get the job done on a few."

"This is the newest mission, then?" Severus asked, crossing his arms over his chest and frowning at the uncharacteristically disheveled man.

The Dark Lord snorted, and stood from his seat.

"As far as you're concerned, it's secondary to a few other things," Voldemort smirked. It slid from his face in the next moment, leaving his expression blank and weary, "But, yes. This is the newest mission. We will do this and then I will work on a different method."

"We have the Stone," Severus scowled, "Why do you need another?"

"You will recall I stole this one," The Dark Lord sneered, "I will find another, more infallible way. One that doesn't sacrifice anyone's sanity. Or, well… none of ours, anyway. Show your mother and Mrs. Potter to their rooms, would you?"

With that, the man stalked from the room, leaving Severus bristling and just as frustrated as usual.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if you catch any mistakes. I've had a few people catch them in the earlier chapters this week so I know they get through sometimes. Bless.  
> The next chapter should be out tomorrow!


	20. Intermission in the Form of Breakfast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is only like a thousand something words, but I've been working on it for... what... six months? And I just keep getting writers block and then erasing and rewriting this over and over and feeling disappointment in it, thereby getting nothing done at all, so... I'm just posting it as is so that I can move past this and hopefully actually get back into this story. Sorry, it's been literal ages since I've been able to get to this. Blah.

“So, how bad was it?” Harry asked as his father walked through the door in order to accompany him to  breakfast the next morning. The immediate response was a heavy sigh, causing Harry to pause halfway through buttoning up his robes and actually take in his exhausted parent, “Surely not  _ that _ bad?”

 

“Whatever you’re thinking of could not possibly come close to how horrible the truth is,” Severus told him solemnly. He looked up with exhausted eyes, shoulders still uncharacteristically slumped. It was incredibly worrying that posture had been thrown out the window. If he were to write Ron or Hermione right now to tell them about it, he was sure he’d be met with total disbelief, “The man was…  _ is _ completely out of his mind to have done what he did to himself.”

 

Harry ran a hand through his hair worriedly, “Is… is he going to die from it?”

 

A joyless chuckle fell from his father’s mouth, “No, Harry. He isn’t going to die. Finish getting dressed and we’ll go down. He wants us to meet in the Grand Dining Room.”

 

“Will I get to see Auntie Bella?” Harry perked up, quickly finishing his last buttons. His father sighed again, long lank hair falling back to reveal his annoyed scowl as he ushered Harry from the room in long suffering silence, “I  _ do, _ right? I’ve missed her. There’s no kids here, and she’s the only adult that knows how to have fun here.”

 

“Most likely,” Harry could practically hear the eye roll accompanying the admission. He shot the man a cheeky grin as he continued speaking, “Your mother and grandmother are down in the Dining Room with the Dark Lord for their introduction already. You and I have been blessedly spared from hearing the entire sordid tale yet again.”

 

“How nice of them,” Harry chirped. Listening to a story he had already heard once before was very far down on his list of things he had wanted to do that morning anyway.

 

“I insisted,” His father told him. Harry looked over only to arch an eyebrow at the almost sinister smirk on the man’s face, “One badly told narrative is enough for 48 hours. Possibly for the next 48  _ years _ .”

 

Harry snorted in amusement, shaking his head. They both let the silence fall following that.  Unlike most days, there wasn’t a single person in the hallways. It made Harry just the slightest bit uncomfortable. He had gotten kind of used to the large amount of people in the halls, just loitering around, or bustling to-and-fro to do whatever tasks The Dark Lord had set them on.

 

In contrast to the silent corridors, the Grand Dining Hall was a riot of noise. All along the tables, Death Eaters rhapsodized about Voldemort actually bringing two peoples’ souls  back from the dead rather than just their bodies as they had seen him do in the last war. Harry’s nose wrinkled in disgust as he caught snippets of the disturbing conversations about those creatures on the way to his seat. He would have to read up on these “ _ Inferi _ ” later.

 

To his delight, Harry’s mum and grandmother were seated across the table from his chair like they had been the night before in the family dining room.

 

“Good morning, everyone,” He grinned, “Good to see none of you killed each other.”

 

The Dark Lord snorted from behind his Daily Prophet.

 

“Did you sleep well?” Lily smiled back before taking a little sip of her breakfast tea.

 

“I slept alright. There was a lot of excitement though. Made it a little difficult to actually get to sleep,” Harry shrugged, grin growing just a fraction, “Hey, Grandfather?”

 

Voldemort hummed in reply, lowering the top of his newspaper with a snap and a single arched eyebrow.

 

“You have a plan to make Mum and Grandmum big again, right?” The boy asked, beginning to serve himself some eggs.

 

“I do. In fact…” The Dark Lord folded his paper and set it to the side with a small smirk, “If you’d like you can help your father and I with it after breakfast. There is a bit of Alchemy involved I would not mind you learning.”

 

“Brilliant! How long will it take to finish?”

 

“I think it is entirely possible to do within the week,” Voldemort ran a finger over his lips in thought for a moment, scowling into the middle distance. His red eyes drifted lazily over toward Harry’s father, a thoughtful scowl forming on his brow, “Does that sound feasible to you, Severus?”

 

“Perfectly, my Lord,” Severus nodded, reaching for his own tea. Harry noted the slight narrowing of his grandfather’s eyes at the address and wrinkled his nose. What was that about? He had thought that Voldemort had wanted his father to keep calling him that in business settings or something. That was definitely something to ask about later.

 

“I can make the necessary adjustments to the potions to speed along some processing. I may need an assistant to help prepare ingredients, but it should be doable. I assume Harry will be with you?” His father asked.

 

“Yes. At least until it is time to combine our separate work for the final product,” The Dark Lord pursed his lips and lifted a single eyebrow in Severus’ direction, “Is there someone else you want to work with you?”

 

“Actually…” Severus took a sip of his tea before carefully returning it to the table with a look from the corner of his eye toward his son, “Harry was just talking about how there are not any other children around the mansion, and if Lucius isn’t opposed… why not kill two birds with one stone and have his son Draco come help me. The child had been hounding me before the school year ended about brewing with me during the summer, and he is more than capable at preparing the ingredients I will need.”

 

A loud groan came from Harry’s general direction as the boy slumped back in his seat. He scowled and crossed his arms across his chest petulantly, “You have an entire mansion of people to choose from and you pick  _ Malfoy _ ?”

 

“Do not  _ sulk _ ,” Severus frowned at him, “You two must learn to get along eventually.”

 

Harry sat up, scowling darkly down at his plate. Stabbing at his eggs in a particularly violent manner, he grumbled, “They day we get along is the day the Sun explodes.”

 

“Then that day will be today,” his father drawled in a low warning, “If Lucius agrees, he will likely be here before lunchtime, so you have until then to adjust your attitude. I will have the same talk with him, rest assured.”


End file.
